The Spartan Effect
by Gatekeeper333
Summary: The story will continue until moral improves...
1. Chapter 1

**The Spartan Effect**

**Message from the author**

Greetings to any who deign to read this story. It took me a long time to gather up the courage – and determination – to finally write this, and I might say that I am only writing this because my all time favorite halo/ mass effect crossover, **One Purpose**, has seemingly been discontinued. *inset sad face here.* Some of you might see some instant similarities, and I am trying to limit those, but some of what Wannabecriminalman writes just seems like the perfect way to do things. (Also I will be using the halo format that the aforementioned author has on his bio page. Once again, it just makes sense.) I am not a fan of the halo mass effect crossovers that have the mass effect universe become spawned from the halo universe, because I do not believe them to be logical… I'm not saying those stories are bad fics, I'm merely stating that I do not like to read them. My main goal is to try to fully showcase the MC's character. Do not expect to see him be very talkative toward anyone but Cortana at first, he will not be revealing his name for some time, and he will be as powerful as he is in the halo universe… no nerfs. If anyone thinks that I have deviated from this plan, please please please tell me. I hope that whomever finds themselves reading this enjoys this fiction because I plan to see it through to the end.

Note: I am not the fast writer, because I like to try to make things perfect. I also play football for my college and am only doing this in my free time, so it may take days or weeks for me to get the next chapter going. Well, I have rambled long enough, so here is the prologue.

**Disclaimer – **I do not own mass effect or Halo or any of the characters within (Exciting because it's the first time I've gotten to write that. :P)

**Prologue – Take a Breather**

_Darkness surrounded him. His world was the gloom. He felt pain, but it was dull, as if the wound were both deep and superficial. He could deal with pain, he knew that. He was… he was… he was the Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan – 117. A voice was calling him, as if from thousands of miles away. He had to respond, he knew that noise. He opened his eyes, and the voice immediately grew louder._

"Chief! Can you hear me?" With a thought, John turned on his suits outer lights, illuminating the darkness. "I thought I'd lost you too." He was floating; there was no gravity in the ship any longer. He shoved off of the cold metal and drifted toward the opening into space. His throat was dry, and he could taste copper in his mouth.

"What happened?" He asked, as he position his body precisely, careful not to cause any unexpected movement in the zero – g environment. He moved to inspect the damage to the ship.

"I'm not sure," replied Cortana. "When Halo fired, it shook itself to pieces… did a number on the Ark. The portal couldn't sustain itself. We made it through just as it collapsed." John gazed out on the ship, or what was left of it and knew before she had to tell him. "Some of us made it." _The Forward Unto Dawn _had been cut in half by the closing portal. There was only one thing to do, the Spartan turned around pushed off for one of the doorways.

The Master Chief glided along the empty hallway in silence, pushing debris out of the way as he made for the cryo bay. His headlamps lighting the way. Once he reached the room, he moved directly for the data terminal. Only then did Cortana again speak, her voice solemn.

"But you did it. Truth and the Covenant... The Flood... It's finished." Her blue body appeared in front of him, and he was filled with a surge of hope.

"It's finished." He moved toward the nearest cryo pod and locked his worn assault rifle into the rack by the tube, Cortana's pixilated gaze following him the whole way. "I'll drop a beacon, but it will be awhile before anyone finds us… years even." The Chief positioned his body within the pod for cryo sleep. He looked out at his one remaining friend and felt pity for her. She would have to remain 'awake' as he slept. The tube began to close.

"I'll miss you," she said meaningfully.

"Wake me, when you need me." The pod closed, and the freezing procedure began. He felt his vision fading, and soon he was once more plunged into darkness.

Cortana's avatar remained atop the pedestal for only a few moments longer, as she prepped what remained of the ships computer for detection of ships and her impending hibernation. Her gaze fell once more on her protector.

"Sleep well," she said to her resting giant, and with that her form disappeared from the projector, leaving only the lights from the cryo pods to light the room. It was quiet. Their mission was over, for now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1 – Rude Awakening**

"A prisoner of war is a man who tries to kill you and fails, and then asks you not to kill him."

**Disclaimer – **I own nothing from halo or mass effect.

Commander James Shepard, savior of the citadel, was tired. Weeks of chasing down high profile characters in order to create a team to travel through the Omega – 4 Relay, would be tiring for anyone. It also didn't help that as soon as he had thought he had cleared the waters with Jack after helping her destroy a Cerberus base, she went and tried to obliterate Miranda. The Cerberus operative might not seem too perturbed by the whole incident, but even after a few days, he still worried that he would wake up to find those two fighting again, taking the rest of the ship with them.

Shepard rose from the bed and padded to his desk to check on any reports and messages that might have come while he slept. He activated the terminal and was immediately bombarded by mail. The commander sighed and set to work.

_I thought one of the perks of being brought back to life would be no more junk mail. _Shepard opened the first message. We of the Galactic Association of_ – Delete. _Giving to the Citadel Fund for the _– Delete. _Thanks for_ – Delete. _Tell all your friends about_ –Delete. _Could you please help me, a Salarian Prince, who_ – Delete. _Hello, fellow pleasure seeker. Would you like to enlarge the size of your_ … save that one for later. _He was reaching the end of the junk mail chain, when Joker's voice broke over the com.

"Hey Commander, EDI's picking up a distress signal that I think you should come take a look at."

_Delete._ _Well, from one crisis to another._ "Be down in a minute, Joker."

Shepard entered the cockpit to find EDI and Joker arguing. Joker's sarcasm did nothing to disarm the situation. "I'm telling you, you can clean that message up a bit. I thought intelligence was part of your name."

"The beacon is being disturbed by the fields around the planet; it is a mathematical improbability that we are hearing anything." Shepard, while normally amused by their banter, was in no mood and so decided to end it.

"What is it that I should be hearing?" He said with a slight cough to gain their attention.

"We intercepted a distress beacon coming from an ice planet only a couple of light years off our current course," as the pilot said this he hit a button on the holo-dash causing a speaker to sputter and then shoot out a garbled message. "We are also being transmitted the position of the ship, but the funny thing is that there are no ships recorded that might have gone black in this area."

"Is there any way to tell what the message is saying?"

"I keep telling the easy bake oven over here that it should be possible, but it won't listen," replied Joker vehemently.

"I have cleaned the audio as adequately as possible. The magnetic fields around the planet are affecting the signal too much to allow anything to get through."

"Maybe if you let me do something more than twiddle my thumbs, we could get something done."

"Enough you two. Joker, take us to this ship, it's worth a look and it doesn't seem too far out of our way. Call me down again when we're closer."

"Aye Commander."

The 'ship' orbited the blue gas giant in a debris field, it was nothing like any on the Normandy had ever witnessed before. Dark, blocky, and ominous, the larger craft's open half faced towards the Normandy like a maw readying to swallow the lesser ship whole.

"Joker, what can you give me on this thing?" asked Shepard impatiently as his mind tried to rationally filter out all Reaper related causes to the current state of the unknown ship and was getting nowhere.

"The beacon suggests that the ship has been like this for months. Scanners can't pick up any life signs and only a minimal amount of power… Huh? That's weird-"

"What is it?"

"Scanners also indicate that there is no element zero aboard the ship. There aren't even any lingering traces of eezo… EDI! This can't be right. Are your sensors malfunctioning again?" stated Joker as he slapped the AI's hologram projector in frustration.

"The scans are accurate," replied EDI in her synthesized voice as her 'form' appeared by the pilot. "And my sensors have not malfunctioned since the last time you tried to use them to pick up a stronger signal for your extranet 'videos'. The legality of th–"

"Fine. Fine! There's nothing wrong with your sensors. Sheesh," said Joker quickly to placate the AI. "Never thought I'd be betrayed by a toaster."

"Enough you two! Can we please focus on the task at hand? What else can you tell me about this ship? Maybe why we're only seeing half of it?"

"Budget cuts?" interjected Joker with a smile, but he returned to his controls after receiving a withering look from Shepard. "Erm, the cut is too clean for the cause to be fragmentation, and I don't know of any ship based weapon in Citadel space that can pull off this kind of damage."

"So, what you're saying is the Reapers or Collectors could have a fun new toy that we might have to worry about? Great. I have a feeling this day is just filled with surprises."

"No need to shoot the messenger."

"Tell Garrus, Jack, Miranda, Grunt, and Mordin to meet me in the hanger prepped for vacuum."

"That shuttle's going to feel a little cramped, don't you think. I don't know about you, but I'd rather not be near a Krogan in tight spaces."

"Sorry, can't hear you," replied Shepard with a wave as he walked away. "I've got enough of your bullshit clogging my ears already." Joker turned to watch the former Spectre storm off toward the cargo hold and continued to watch until the beeps from the controls became more insistent.

"Well, somebody needs to shoot something today."

_This is the last time I take more than two people with me, _thought Shepard sullenly. Due to the excess squad members, the shuttle was more cramped than usual and smelled of sweaty krogan, but the commander would never let Joker have the satisfaction of knowing.

As the Kodiak shuttle drew closer to the large vessel, Shepard began to feel a greater sense of unease. _What could do that kind of damage?_ In an effort to draw his attention from the ghost ship, Shepard's eyes began to wander around the cabin.

Mordin was chattering away to no one in particular. The salarian practically quivered with the excitement of new knowledge.

Grunt twitched every now and again. _He has been doing that a lot lately. His blood lust is kicking in a bit early, _thought Shepard. _I may have to talk to him about that. _

Garrus sat off on the other side of the shuttle, checking and rechecking his load out of weapons and readying himself for anything.

Miranda sat in the middle, calm and collected. After sending off a preliminary report to the Illusive Man on the find, she was now completely focused on the task at hand.

And Jack, Shepard always had trouble judging the unstable biotic. _She looks angry, but she always seems pissed. Course, as long as she isn't throwing me into a wall, then she can stay pissed. _

The cabin rocked momentarily, as the Kodiak landed within the ruined ship. The six "man" squad quickly filtered out, anxious to get the mission underway. Shepard looked around the dark grey interior of the vessel, appraising the situation. _It's as dreary on the inside as it is on the outside._

"Alright! I know most of you don't want to be here, so we're going to keep this brief. We go in, we salvage as much Intel and tech as possible, and we get out. Doctor that goes for you too," said Shepard swiftly to swat down any potential questioning from the hyperactive scientist. Seeing that his team was set, Shepard turned and headed down the dark corridor. "Let's get this over with."

**Initializing… **

_I feel their footsteps._

_They have come from beyond._

**Security Protocol – 984.003 Loaded/ Applying Counter Measures/ Decks 4A Throooooooooooooooo… **

_To tread within my land, this wounded metal beast._

_Some are akin to my makers; the others are unknown to me._

… **Runtime Error… **

_All are armed and moving toward him._

**Searching…**

_They will not catch him in his reverie._

_They will not take him from me._

**Loading Cryogenics Bay Directory…**

_I am his shield…_

_I am his sword._

**Loading Successful/ Subject No. 117 Found…**

_They let ME pick._

**Security Key Accepted/ Unsealing Hushed Casket…**

_He is MINE!_

The squad had hit an impasse. The passage that they had initially taken now forked off in two different directions. The directional signs that had been in place had now faded, the words illegible. They had searched the many rooms along the way, but had found nothing in the way of usable tech; however Mordin was still digesting the intriguing information that had been found in the latest room. The warning labels and instructions that had been unreadable in other areas were now slightly less spoiled and were found to be in English.

"Fascinating. Ship which utilizes no element zero and possibly unknown drive core was created by humans. Truly remarkable, humans progressing this far without public knowledge."

"Don't get your hopes up," drawled Miranda. "This isn't a Cerberus vessel, and we have no Intel on the Alliance testing anything such as this. There is little that happens in the Alliance that we do not know about."

"Sounds like your precious Cerberus might not be as perfect as you think it is, cheerleader," interjected a smiling Jack before Mordin could respond. Miranda turned to confront the powerful biotic, but Shepard stepped between them before the sparks could fly.

"I thought we were passed this. I will not have you fighting during a mission," said Shepard sternly.

"Ahhh, fuck off," replied Jack gracefully before she backed away from the squad's other biotic.

"Garrus, you take Grunt and Jack through the door to the right. I'll take Miranda and Mordin to the left. We'll meet back here in an hour. Radio in if you find anything interesting."

"Great, you send me off with the two rabid ones. I'll see what I can do," replied Garrus sarcastically. The Turian moved towards the door, nodding for Jack and Grunt to follow, and the two not in the slightest insulted killers obliged.

"You'll be fine," said Shepard as the door closed behind the trio, and then turned to his remaining squad mates. "Well, shall we continue to explore?"

"Indeed. Must still find source of ship, possible crew members, data ports…"

Shepard moved toward the door in an effort to escape from the doctor's ramblings. It proved less fruitful then what was initially thought. _If he were ever to suffocate, please let it be now._

Garrus' squad had been following the directional arrows that were plastered on the floor and walls of the corridor, continuing to check the side rooms along the way, but all the evidence still led to a ship wide evacuation. The purpose of the mission seemed hopeless, until they reached where the markers were pointing.

"_Cryogenics bay_. This must be their stasis pod room aboard the ship," inferred Garrus as he tried the door, but it wouldn't budge. Undeterred, he quickly moved to the controls to try to finesse a way in.

"We're not going in that fucking room are we? I don't like being around cryo equipment," said Jack hesitantly, suddenly losing her slightly psychopathic air. She still remembered her recent internment within a cryo cell.

"Is the little human girl scared? Do not worry; I can kill anything inside there," said the large Krogan with a throaty chuckle.

"Have you ever been launched through a bulkhead before?" replied the biotic as ebon energies began to swirl around her. Grunt fingered his shotgun, quivering with excitement.

"Collectors, Reapers, geth, slavers, and mercenaries all exist in this galaxy, and you two would rather choose to brawl with each other while on a ghost ship?" exclaimed Garrus as he turned from his work on the control panel.

"Yeah," countered the two destroyers nonchalantly.

"Well… save it for later. I don't need you two bludgeoning each other right now." Garrus walked back over to the control panel and tried another button, to which the door responded quickly. "The power flow through the ship must be getting pretty erratic. Come on; let's see if there's anything promising inside."

The cryogenic bay was very dimly lit, and the failing emergency lights from the pods did not help the situation. There were dozens of the cryo pods lined up along the walls.

"Jack, Grunt, check the pods for anything useful. I'm going to go take a look at that control unit, and please try not to kill each other." Sulkily, the two obeyed and began to check the various cases around the room. Seeing that no bloodshed was imminent, Garrus turned toward the pedestal, eager to find something that worked on this ship. He touched a switch and a blue light began to glow on top, but as suddenly as it appeared it returned from whence it came. At first, the turian thought that it had lost power, but the other controls still seemed fully operational. Intrigued, Garrus waved his Omni-tool to get a reading on the control system. _Power output looks controlled… What the…_ The unit had shut itself off, but before he could begin to fiddle with the apparently malfunctioning tech, a voice broke over his headset.

"Garrus, better come see this," said the rough tone of Grunt.

"What did you find?"

"Survivor, and it's a big one," finished Jack, her voice barely able to contain the surprise.

As the former C-Sec officer began to walk over to his two comrades, he decided to alert Shepard to the find.

"Commander." He was greeted by static as he awaited a reply.

"What have you found?"

"A Cryo bay with possibly a living occupant."

"Really? Hold your position. We're on our way." Shepard cut off the link, and Garrus turned again towards his squad mates. As he reached the cryo unit, he noticed that strangely the display was active. After closer inspection, he found that the pod was in the discharge stage. He hastily glanced at the lone occupant and was shocked to see how right Jack's assessment truly was.

The inhabitant had to be over seven feet tall and was completely covered from head to toe in green and black armor, but the face was obscured by an impenetrable golden face plate. The figure, although lying down and unconscious, looked imposing, but the surprising fact was that it looked human.

"I didn't know humans got that big," wondered Garrus aloud.

"Well, we're just full of surprises," replied Jack cheerily.

The body within twitched ever so slightly. Garrus looked to either side of himself to see that both Jack and Grunt had drawn their guns and were aiming at the tube.

"Don't shoot unless it attacks us. The last thing we need is to needlessly go pissing off the only occupant of this ship."

"A little fun never hurts you, Garrus. Besides, it might just be a mech that they decided to freeze," replied Jack in a pouting tone, while Grunt chuckled deeply. The Turian tried to give the human biotic a withering gaze, but the helmet made it all but impossible.

He needed to tell the commander this. "You better hurry up. It seems our host is about to wake up, and the psycho twins are getting antsy. Also, thought you should know that it looks human." The tube began to open. "Check that last transmission. He IS waking up…"

_The flood was closing in at every angle. Escape was no longer possible, but he continued to fight. He would not stop, could not stop. The parasite's wails filled the air as he brought his rifle to bare and unleashed a hail of bullets upon his enemy. They continued forward undeterred. They would soon be upon him. Chances of survival were dwindling, he couldn't_-

The Master Chief Petty Officer John – 117 opened his eyes, and was greeted with only darkness. His body burned and itched, but his mental focus shoved it aside. Besides, it was only freezer burn. A sharper burning sensation suddenly ripped across his chest. _That's not freezer burn_, he thought as his memories prior to cryo sleep came rushing back.

_He heard Johnson scream and turned to see Guilty Spark firing a laser out of its eye. As he sprinted forward to stop the insane AI, it turned its gaze upon him._

"_Unacceptable! Unacceptable! Absolutely Unacceptable!" It was raving now, the contours of its spherical body glowing red. Another lance of energy shot out of its eye and hit the Chief squarely in the chest knocking him several meters back…_

Plasma and laser burns were bad, but he had dealt with them before, it was just another kind of pain. Joints had been dislocated, bruises upon bruises made, explosions which would have shattered a normal human had rocked his body, and yet he was still here, ready to move on. With a thought, John turned on the power to his MJOLNIR armor, the heads up display flashing to life and revealing a surprising sight to the Spartan.

Outside of his cryo tube stood three beings. The two taller creatures were unmistakably not human; the larger one had a large hump on its back with three fingers and toes to each appendage and the other had spines protruding out from its armor and a head that resembled an Elite's. The third one was human, or at least the Chief couldn't see anything that would have suggested otherwise.

_Two unidentified aliens with a human._ _None of them are wearing any UNSC identification… insurrectionalists?_ He thought to himself, going through all his vast knowledge. _Whatever they are, they're armed. _Garbled noises filled his helmet; the radio transmitter was picking up some of the unknowns' conversation. What surprised the Chief was that he could understand what they were saying.

"-We're on our way," said a male voice.

_ They're calling for back up_. John tested his muscles, preparing for any scenario, and two of the trespassers drew their odd weapons. It took all of the Chief's training to not leap through the glass of the tube to engage. _Easy, got to wait for the right moment._ His transmitter began picking up the radio frequency of the invaders once again; the Chief locked it this time in order to hear what they were saying.

"Check that last transmission. It IS waking up." The glass sheath had begun to rise, it was almost time. The spiny alien moved forward inquisitively, stretching out a hand. The Chief's muscles contracted, readying to move. When the alien's hand was within an arm's length away, the Spartan sprang into action, leaning forward and grabbing the creature's hand within the blink of an eye and throwing it into the now vacant tube. He quickly hit a button on the panel and the pod closed before the alien could get out, freezing it in place.

It took only a few moments for the other two to recover from shock before they began to open fire on the armored behemoth. The larger of the two raced forward to overpower the Spartan – II, but with a series of quick jabs that the creature could not even hope to follow and a crack against the beast's hump it was down for the count.

As the Chief relieved the hulking creature of its weapon, he was suddenly forced back by a large force. Bracing himself against the flowing power, the Master Chief turned his gaze to the final trespasser. She was glowing purple, and it was from her that the energy was flowing. A look of surprise crossed her face, as the Spartan took a difficult step towards her. She screamed in anger and the current grew stronger.

John had not felt a disembodied force this strong since his battle with Guilty Spark, but even the Forerunner AI could only manage simple pulses. As the Chief made it back to his original cryo pod, he noticed his assault rifle on the rack next to it, and diving to the side the large human, hid behind the tube, grabbed the weapon, and checked it, preparing his next move. A female voice broke over the channel as a blow rocked the pod.

"I Will Destroy You," yelled the woman. She was growing angry. The tube rocked from the onslaught of her power, leaving the aisle untouched. Deciding to use this to his advantage, the Chief leapt out of hiding and made for the girl, moving side to side and firing the remainder of the MA5C's ammunition to avoid any more blasts. The rounds were stopped by a blue energy shield and the female tried to move out of the way, but the damage had been done. The Spartan reached her, and with a quick punch to the stomach knocked her out, the glow around her faded.

With the current threat now over, John policed the rest of the exotic weapons from the unconscious bodies and stacked them in a pile. He was about to move the two, when suddenly the doors to the bay opened and three more individuals entered. Grabbing one of the rifles, the Chief hid behind a cryo pod and waited for the newcomers to enter.

Two of them were human, a male and a female with a strange emblem emblazoned upon their suits. The third loosely resembled a prophet, and seemed to be the one talking as its voice broke over the radio.

"-A great discovery. Preserved subject should fill logic gaps around ship. Maybe explain lack of element zero. Should clarify ships state."

"Mordin, enough. You're giving me a head-ach… What happened here… where's Garrus?" The male human stepped forward and looked about the bay. He drew one of his weapons and the others followed suit. The two unconscious beings had begun to float off of the floor, their magnetized boots no longer anchoring them. The new squad of intruders moved over to their fallen comrades, pressing the comatose bodies back onto the ground. The female turned and saw the spiny alien, Garrus, asleep within the cryo tube.

"Shepard, I believe I've just found him."

"Well, I think it's safe to say that whatever they woke up is loose… and apparently iced Garrus and knocked out Grunt and Jack without too much trouble." Shepard had an uneasy feeling. Whatever did this couldn't be far off; the bullet holes in the walls and floor were still cooling. The whole situation screamed trap. "What could do this to a 'perfect' Krogan and a super biotic?" Suddenly a cold gravelly commanding voice washed over the com.

"Drop your weapons and turn around slowly."

**Note: I have half of chapter 2 done…. And reviews are always good inspiration *wink***


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2 – Explanations, Queries, and Intrigue… Oh My.**

**Author's notes**:Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews so far. I hope that I continue to impress, and as always keep me in line if I deviate from the true path.

"You are the master of all words unsaid. Once spoken, they are the master of you."

**Disclaimer** – I own nothing of Halo or Mass Effect…. Unfortunately XD

"Drop your weapons and turn around slowly." The voice was harsh, commanding, and brooked no mistakes. Not wanting to provoke the man with the readied gun, Shepard did as he was bid, dropping the gun, and turning around. Miranda and Mordin followed suit. The sight that greeted him was completely unexpected.

The being pointing the firearm at his crew was easily seven feet tall and covered from head to toe in green and black armor. Its face was totally obscured by a gold visor and its armor was covered with burns and dents. Whatever this was, it meant business.

Regaining his composure faster than his squad mates, the ex-Spectre attempted to disarm the situation.

"I'm Commander Shepard, and you are?" he prompted.

"Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan – 117. What are you affiliated with?"

_Well that's not much of a name._ Maybe it was the lack of sleep, maybe it was the seemingly endless ranks of mercenaries, or maybe it was simply that his armor was too tight, but the commander didn't feel like being kicked around by some faceless armored behemoth and decided to test fate.

"…Let's try this again. I'm Commander Shepard, and you are?" The green clad being cocked Grunt's shotgun. It was not amused, test failed. "Well, I used to be with the Alliance military, but now I work with Cerberus. Now could I please get a name, a race, or something?"

"Human and I'm unfamiliar with anything named the Alliance or Cerberus. What happened to the UNSC? Are you Separatists?" Those words hit Shepard like a hammer stroke.

_He's never heard of the Human Alliance? Where's this guy from?_ Shepard's mind swirled with questions, too many to count."Well I've never heard of this 'UNSC' or of any 'Separatists' … Look, we came here in response to the ship's distress beacon. Now we can sit here and have a one sided argument with you pointing that gun at my squad and me, or we can speak like civilized people on my 'working' ship." Shepard paused, waiting for some kind of reaction from the armed human. "At least it would give me awhile to check on my crew that you knocked out. Hell, we might even be able to give you a ride."

At the mention of the once again floating krogan and biotic, the Master Chief lowered his weapon, walked past Shepard, and over to the tube that Garrus was currently frozen in. Placing the weapon on his back, the huge human hit a button on the display and the tube began to open.

"My goal was not to kill them. They were armed and unknown, I reacted," admitted the Chief simply.

Surprised by this, Shepard was taken aback for a few moments, looking around the room once more. _That's some reaction._ It is always harder to try and stun an individual than it is to kill one, and the fact that this Master Chief knocked out three of his best without a scratch spoke volumes of his abilities. Leaving the now thawing Garrus, the Spartan walked over to a pedestal in the room, removed a chip, and placed it in his helmet.

_This day might turn out better than I thought,_contemplated Shepard as visions of recruitment flashed through his head. "I will have my ship dock with yours. I'll be waiting to greet you when you're ready." The Spartan only gave a slight nod in response, and made off down the corridor, leaving Shepard to take care of a cranky turian and two unconscious killers. He moved to go help them, and Miranda and Mordin, having just recovered their senses, turned to help him. It was not much longer before Mordin began chattering again, to Shepard's dismay.

**OOOO**

"Well, that could have gone better," said Cortana, speaking for the first time since being put back into his helmet. "Is mortal combat your personal handshake now? Maybe you would have liked to knock the others out as well. You know… give them a fond gauntleted hello."

The Chief was glad to hear his friend's voice and was quick to filter out the sarcastic bits of her rant. "They were armed and were aiming at me. My training kicked in. If you're so upset about it, you could have woken me sooner."

"Your tube was a little buggy at first. I had to fix it, which took longer than expected," replied Cortana reluctantly as she sighed. "We have to show a few more manners if we're going to get off this space hunk. That means you can't go around pacifying every new alien you meet –" Cortana trailed off as the Spartan reached the armory, knowing her words would soon fall on deaf ears.

The armory was in a state of disarray. Weapons that would normally be locked into the racks were floating about the room unfettered. There was a surprising amount of Covenant weapons scattered across the room. The Spartan even noted a pair of plasma swords in the mix.

Some of the lockers were ripped open, spewing forth repair kits and power packs of all sizes. With these he could keep his MJOLNIR armor going through all but the most grievous situations.

"Chief, I have a feeling that we won't be coming back any time soon, and that gun you picked up is like nothing I've ever seen before. I doubt that they will have the ammunition that you need. If you're going to take anything with you, try to stick with the energy weapons."

John slowly took the MA5C assault rifle off his back, and cast the well worn weapon aside. There had been one point in his life as a soldier where he would have thought twice before choosing alien weapons. He preferred the more familiar human weapons, but times changed, and fighting a losing war was cause for adaptation.

He saw a pair of duffle bags at the end of the room and silently made his way toward them, taking stock of what he might choose along the way. The bags were large enough to hold all he would need for months. He paused and gazed around the room, deciding where to begin.

"Sorry to kill the moment, caveman, but our ride isn't going to wait forever," interrupted the AI, impatiently. "…. Besides, I'd start with the laser."

_She knows me too well_, thought the Chief with a small smile

**OOOO**

The turian was not happy. Mere seconds after the Spartan's departure, Garrus had begun to shift about the tube. His skin was on fire, and although he didn't know the name, he was quickly learning the effects of 'freezer burn.' He opened his eyes, fully expecting to see that armored being again, but was pleasantly surprised when Shepard offered his hand to help him out of the cylinder.

"Wha-what happened," he asked biting back the burning sensation that he was feeling everywhere.

"You guys got your asses kicked," replied Shepard nonchalantly.

"What… oh, yeah. There were dozens of them. They just came out of nowhere. No possible way to fend them off. I-"

"Nice try, but we already saw him," interrupted the Commander, decisively ending the turian's rant.

"Well, it was worth a shot," said Garrus sighing. "Looks like Grunt and Jack didn't fare much better. How did you stop it?"

"We asked him nicely not to freeze us."

"Ha h- ow. My face hasn't hurt this bad since I was shot. I keep telling you not to make me laugh."

"Sorry, couldn't help myself with that one."

"How did you stop it though? I only saw it for a bit before the tank froze me, but I've never seen anything move that fast."

"He didn't attack us. You must have surprised him while he was waking up. Anyway, he went further into the ship to grab some things. We're going to give him a ride…. at least."

"As long as he doesn't try to shove me into a freezer again, then I'll be fine, can't say the same for those two however," he admitted as he gestured over to the two prone killers where Miranda and Mordin were trying to rouse them.

"When I saw him, he looked human. Is he?" asked Garrus inquisitively. Before Shepard could answer, Miranda entered the conversation.

"Oh, he's human, but larger than any man I've ever seen. Plus he had no idea what Cerberus or the Alliance was. He's a complete enigma, called himself the Master Chief." Miranda was frustrated. There were few things that she did not know, and fewer still that she couldn't eventually figure out, but each time she was faced with one of these unlikely scenarios, it unnerved her.

"He doesn't know about the human Alliance?" asked Garrus, his mandibles opening in surprise.

"Humans have large genetic variety," interjected the salarian as he continued to treat Jack. "Quite possible for specimen to have grown to size, however rare. Swiftness of takedowns suggests specialized instruction. Lack of knowledge pertaining to human organizations troubling. Could be lost human colony. No, doesn't explain lack of eezo. Perhaps lost memory during hibernation. Regardless, should ask subject upon arrival. Will clear up matters nicely." Grunt began to twitch and mumble, and Shepard and his squad backed away from the krogan berserker, none wanting to be to close when he fully awoke.

Suddenly, Grunt launched himself to his feet, growling and preparing to take out an enemy that was long gone with weapons that weren't there. The entire sight would have been amusing to Garrus had it not involved a highly dangerous krogan.

"Easy Grunt. He's gone," said Shepard cautiously as he tentatively approached the confused krogan, fingering his pistol just in case. The large alien continued to rage, smashing into tubes and nearly stepping on Jack.

_Well, we figured he would snap eventually,_ thought Garrus, preparing his sniper rifle as he continued to back away for "effective range".

"Grunt, stand down. That's an order." The sterner voice seemed to pierce the krogan's blood rage. Gazing around the room, Grunt reached once again for his missing weapons. Their absence elicited a low growl.

"Shepard, where are my guns?" growled the angry Krogan. "Did _IT_ take them?"

"He took your shotgun, but your machine gun is here." Shepard bent down, picked up the gun from the pile, and brought it to the large alien, holding the weapon like a peace offering.

"I want to kill him. That's **_my_** gun," stated Grunt as he tore the firearm from Shepard.

_He's twitching again. Damn krogan really means it,_ thought Garrus bitterly.

"No one's killing anyone for right now unless I say so. Alright?" yelled the ex-Spectre. He was beginning to grow impatient.

"As you wish, battlemaster," abated Grunt reluctantly. Silence filled the com, as none wished to stir up the stabilized situation. Mordin walked back over to Jack to check on the unconscious psychopath, but there seemed to be no change.

Shepard hailed the Normandy to update Joker to the situation.

"Joker, I'm sending the shuttle back to you, bring the Normandy to dock with the ship."

"_Aye Commander. Find anything interesting?"_

"A survivor, I'll tell you more when you get here."

"Oh, a new puppy? You really should stop finding strays. We're barely able to feed the ones we have-"

"Joker… just get here," said Shepard, cutting the feed. "Smart ass. Grunt, get Jack, we're heading back to the shuttle."

Growling, Grunt did as he was told.

"Don't worry; we'll get your gun back."

**OOOO**

After docking with the ghost ship, Joker was left with nothing to do. He restlessly adjusted and readjusted the navigation controls out of sheer nervousness. This ship was giving him the creeps.

Trying to keep himself calm, Joker took a deep breath and began counting to clear his mind.

_One – one thousand. Two – one thousand. Three – one thousand…_

_"Is something wrong, Mr. Moreau?"_asked EDI abruptly as her avatar quickly flickered to life beside him, its sudden appearance causing him to jump in his seat.

_"_I'm fine, just fine. Go back to calculating pi…. or something…." _Just what I need right now._

At the Alliance training center, his flight instructor had always said "Your ship is your life. Show her respect, and she will return it." _Well, he never had to deal with a ship that could actually talk back!_

"Mr. Moreau, your actions are atypical for a man who is nervous. Commander Shepard has set a timetable for withdrawal and the survivor is no longer hostile. There is no logical need for such emotions."

"Oh really? If I wanted a psych evaluation, I would have asked Kelly, not some 2-bit holo-pad with a thesaurus. Besides, I can handle myself just find."

"As you wish," replied the AI in a flat voice. "Shepard is hailing the ship, patching him through."

"_Nice going on the park job, Joker. Open the hatch, we'll be there shortly,"_radioed the Commander.

"Great," replied Joker raggedly.

_One – one thousand…_

**OOOO**

"Keep going to the end of this hallway, our guests have parked in the forward hanger bay," directed Cortana, as the Chief made his way through the _Dawn_, laden with his plunder from the armory. Following the AI's advice, the Spartan had chosen mostly Covenant plasma weapons. A trio of plasma rifles and pistols along with a crate of plasma grenades filled one of the duffle bags, while the other was devoted solely to armor repair.

The Chief had armed himself with a pair of plasma swords, the exotic shotgun, and a Spartan Laser as well. As friendly as this Commander had seemed, his finely honed Spartan instincts screamed at him to be prepared, and a good soldier never ignored his instincts.

The door slid open slowly upon the hanger bay, revealing a ship the likes of which the veteran soldier had never seen. UNSC ships tended to be blocky and efficient, even the ONI prowler, designed for stealth and recon, were not this flat. It seemed closer to covenant ships whose sleek and bulbous hulls were like some grandiose insect. This craft, however, was straight and smooth like a dart. The front half of the vessel stuck into the hanger, and three guards stood in front of the only door visible leading into the ship.

The Chief continued forward unperturbed, as if seeing three new alien races and a new faction of humans was an everyday occurrence. The same however could not be said for the guards. As the Spartan strode forward, the sentries shifted around nervously, drawing their weapons at the sight of the gigantic human.

"H-halt!" stammered one of the guards. His rifle brought up, ready to fire. The Master Chief dropped the bags where he was standing; he felt his muscles coil in anticipation for a possible fight. Suddenly, before events could escalate, the door on the ship opened and a voice broke over the radio.

"Stafford, Singer, Myers! Stand Down, he's cleared," spoke Commander Shepard gruffly. "Master Chief, please come inside. Welcome aboard the _Normandy_."

**OOOO**

"You weren't kidding when you said he was big," said a shocked Joker. The monitor displayed the green and black clad human strolling into the airlock. "I'll have four of whatever he's taking." Ignoring the jibe, the Commander waited at the other side of the threshold for their visitor.

"Uh, Commander, you do realize that the jolly green giant here looks like he is carrying enough weapons to put Jacob to shame, right?" That did raise a problem, and Shepard's mind was racing for ways to peacefully disarm the Master Chief.

_Not like it will do much good_, thought the Commander_. If what Grunt and Garrus said was true, then this guy was dangerous even without guns_. It was just another reason why he had made a point of changing into more diplomatic clothes. _The less of a threat I seem, the better._ Plus, a true engineer always had a few tricks up his sleeves.

The door to the airlock opened, and the Spartan's massive frame strode through, his impenetrable faceplate scanning the interior before finally resting on the former Spectre. The black scars upon his armor and the blank gaze were slightly unnerving; it was as if he were staring into the face of some one – eyed monster. Suddenly his omni-tool felt strangely useless.

_He needs our help,_ remembered Shepard, his confidence returning once again. "I see you felt free to bring half the ship with you, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave your weapons here." The Spartan stared at him for a moment, before he dropped one of his bags.

_Please don't let him attack_. The Commander had prepared for this eventuality, having Jacob and Thane close at hand, but he would prefer not to use them. He would have preferred using Grunt and Jack, but one was still unconscious and the other was liable to snap at the mere sight of the Chief.

The Spartan's hand hovered over a strange silver item hanging at his waist, and remained motionless. _Damn it, I really don't need this right now._ Shepard prepared to motion for his protectors, when the Spartan broke the silence.

"The bags can stay here, but they are not to be touched," replied the Chief in a voice that would tolerate no argument.

"And the weapons you have on?"

"They are coming with me," the large human's tone was flat, as if stating a well known fact. The Commander sighed, it wasn't completely what he wanted, but at least he had avoided a fight for now.

"Very well," replied Shepard as he turned and motioned for the Spartan to follow him. Jacob and Thane moved to flanking positions on either side of the Chief to serve as an escort, but the giant seemed unperturbed.

The Commander led the way, preferring to talk in the privacy of the conference room. The doors shut behind them, cutting them off from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the ship. _Now comes the fun part._

"You obviously need our help to get off that space hunk of yours, so it would be rather nice if you answered a few questions for me," stated Shepard bluntly, to which the ex-Spectre received only a curt nod in reply. "Alright, where do you come from?"

"UNSC controlled space in the year 2552."

_2552?_ thought Shepard, his shock showing upon his face. _Is this guy from the future? It might explain why his ship doesn't have eezo._

"You do realize that the current Earth date is 2185, and what is this UNSC you keep talking about?"

"The United Nations Space Command, formed in the year 2163, but I am currently browsing your extranet databases and I believe I have found a discrepancy," stated the Chief calmly in his gravelly voice.

"Please, do go on," replied the Commander, his mind still trying to wrap itself around all the current possibilities.

"I believe that I am from an alternate reality."

"Really? Well, that's one that I haven't heard before…"

**OOOO**

Although the Chief didn't allow it to show in his voice or on his face, his mind was reeling from the information that Cortana had just divulged to him. She had infiltrated part of the ship's systems without alerting the Commander's AI, and had opened a treasure trove of information to the duo.

The Spartan felt lost. Since he had woken up, he had been under the assumption that he would be able to contact the UNSC, to get back to normalcy. When Cortana said there was no going back, he realized he did not know what to do. The Commander's voice, however, broke his trance.

"Would you care to explain that little theory of yours?" From what he could tell from Shepard's tone, he was just as surprised.

"_Chief, you better start from the beginning,"_interrupted Cortana. "_Course, I don't think you should talk about me. Their history shows a slight aversion to AIs."_

"In my timeline, faster than light travel was not discovered until the year 2291," stated the Spartan succinctly. "We did not have first contact with an alien race until the Covenant in 2525."

"And what is this Covenant?" asked Shepard.

"A collection of eight alien races devoted to their religion. They attacked at first contact…" The Chief proceeded to tell the history of the Human-Covenant war, it was perhaps the longest speech he had ever given to a non-Spartan. It was the short version, and it left several details out, but it would give the Commander an idea of the conflict without revealing sensitive information. The Chief might not be able to get back to the UNSC, but he would not give away military secrets. He begrudgingly mentioned the Spartan project at Shepard's behest, but it was merely general information from the ONI moral boosters.

Commander Shepard, for his part, listened intently, his face a calm mask as he took in the Spartan's tale. As he finished, the ex-Spectre maintained his silence, and then finally sighed before speaking. The Spartan, however, could tell the answer before the Commander spoke.

_He doesn't believe me._ Of course, the Chief would have trouble believing his own story, if he had not lived it.

"That's quite a story you've told me, but that's all it remains. Words are fleeting. Do you have any proof?" Fortunately, Cortana had prepared for this. His MJOLNIR armor had extensive data logs of all of his past missions, and the AI could access these at will and choose the best sample.

"_Chief, place your hand on the dash at the end of the table. I'll do the rest,_" stated Cortana confidently.

"I have video logs stored within my armor. If I could use this room's display, then I can give you your proof."

"This should be interesting," replied the Commander skeptically, stepping aside so that the Chief could get to the controls. The armored giant placed his hand upon the controls, and the holo-projector came to life.

_OPEN RECORD VIEW (2552.11.17. 20.24.53 L)_

_SPARTAN 117_

_PLAY_

_A procession of warthogs was making its way through a tunnel. The view shifted all around, taking in all angles of the channel. The vehicles were approaching a large facility, and a female's voice broke over the radio._

_"Chief, the Prophet of Truth has found the Ark. Our only chance of stopping him is a surprise aerial assault. Clear this sector of Covenant anti-air defenses, make a hole for the admiral's ships. Good hunting, Keyes out."_

_The vehicles pulled up to the large building, and all of the riders poured out. The camera moved towards a large set of blast doors. A gauntleted hand appeared in view and hit a button on the door, causing the massive gateway to open._

_"Chief, you take point," shouted one of the soldiers. The camera moved further into the structure, its gaze lingering on a dead marine on the floor. The Master Chief moved up a set of stairs and down a hallway, a deep pious voice could be heard softly in the next room. The Spartan turned the corner and came face to face with a trio of jackals, but in the blink of an eye had charged forward and cracked two of the aliens with his assault rifle. The third tried to bring its shield to bear, but the veteran soldier riddled its scaly hide with holes._

At the appearance of the Jackals, the Commander visibly jumped. The Chief had told him about the carnivorous aliens, but he had not truly believed. Shepard began to watch the video more intently.

_The Chief vaulted off of the walkway, and sprinted toward the next set of blast doors. A score of grunts and a lone brute opened fire upon the Demon. The Spartan's battle rifle began to bark, and invaders began to fall, their blue blood spattering the concrete. The marines soon joined the fray, and the small covenant patrol disintegrated._

_FFW_

_Spartan – 117 was hurtling toward the wraith on a ghost. The smaller vehicle's weapons whined and discharged its bolts, but futilely splashed against its heavily armed opponent, a brute returned fire on a turret. The Covenant tank lowered its main gun readying to fire upon the nuisance, but the Chief continued upon his course and before the blob of superheated plasma could obliterate his ghost, he leaped from the seat landing with a crash upon the wraith's turret gunner._

_The veteran soldier's massive weight stunned the brute, knocking its helmet off, but before it could recover a rifle butt smashed quickly into its head, silencing it forever. With the immediate threat taken care of, the camera gaze shifted to the tanks hatch, and the Chief moved until he was positioned directly over it. The Spartan's gauntleted hands pounded upon the entry denting it and then splitting it open. The enclosed brute's surprise lasted for only moments before a fragmentation grenade shredded apart the monster as well as the inside of the tank. Threat eliminated._

_FFW_

"– _anby, something big closing in on your position," reported Sergeant Johnson gruffly. The Chief began to regroup with the remaining marines, their mongooses were charred and blackened by plasma fire, but were working fine. The ground began to shake. The view shifted, as the Spartan's gaze traveled up the wall of the large building._

"_It's getting closer!"_

"_Scarab! Get some cover… NOW!" shouted the Sergeant. However, the Master Chief had already sprung into motion, grabbing a rocket launcher from a shocked marine. The Spartan was making a run for the large crane, he needed height and the crane would be all too happy to oblige._

_The massive siege engine had crested the top of the building, its great gun glowing green like a monstrous eye. Its spidery legs settled upon the ground and the hunt was on._

_The elevator reached the top of the crane just as the scarab began to pass underneath it, its main cannon firing at the marines swarming around it. The Chief broke into a headlong sprint and threw himself off of the scaffolding, landing with a metallic thud onto the Covenant war machine. Quickly, the armored giant put the rocket launcher to good use, cutting two brutes in half with a single rocket. The Spartan moved further along the assault platform, searching for its reactor._

_His assault rifle cracked against the shielding, causing it to turn red. A second hit causing it to fail entirely. A rocket cracked the reactor's casing, causing the power plant to melt down._

_The Chief made his way back toward the facility. There was more killing to do._

_FFW_

_The hunters shuffled into the room over the burnt bodies of their victims, their armor clanking. Bullets pinged off their armor, the pair turned to assess the threat._

_The Master Chief dove for cover as a fuel rod burst incinerated the space he had just occupied. The Spartan turned his gaze upon the Arbiter, who was making his way around the edge of the room to flank the walking tanks. Turning back to the scuffling behemoths, the Chief sprinted out of cover to distract them further._

_As he ducked behind a wall, the Chief tossed a pair of grenades. The twin explosions thudded simultaneously, casting shrapnel and debris everywhere and generally pissing off the hunters. The duo howled a challenge and lowered their fuel rods, determined to destroy the demon. Their aim was thrown off, however, when a plasma grenade buffeted their exposed backs causing orange blood to pool on the floor._

_A hunter turned to engage the forgotten Arbiter, but the behemoths were caught in a crossfire, and soon both of the large aliens were oozing viscous fluids from multiple wounds. With a final growl, the two bond – mates slumped to the ground._

_Halt x_

_End Record View_

_**OOOO**_

The Commander stood still contemplating everything he had just seen. He had not expected evidence of that caliber. He knew that video evidence could be forged, but everything that he had just observed had seemed so real. This put his view of the Spartan in an entirely different light.

_He's a sole survivor, just like me. He's lost all his friends and has been uprooted from everything he has ever known. How can he stay so calm?_ Shepard had not even seen this man's face, but he felt almost compelled to trust him, almost. To truly know someone you had to look into their eyes.

"There's one more thing I want to ask before I'm willing to put my trust in you," said the ex-Spectre carefully. He had seen firsthand how dangerous this giant could be. "I want to see your face."

At first the Spartan did not respond or even move, his faceplate aimed directly at the Commander's face. It appeared to be peeling him back layer by layer, trying to see what made him tick. It made him a little nervous. Finally, after what seemed to be hours, the Chief placed his hands upon his helmet, gave it a twist, and removed it.

_Well, that's not what I expected,_thought a surprised Shepard. The Spartan's face was not nearly as attention grabbing as his size. Except for the almost ghostlike skin, the Master Chief looked rather average with his brown eyes and hair. Small scars were scattered about his face, some of them as faint as surgical scars. His eyes were hard, revealing no emotion. The man's visage was like a stone, placid even when he began to speak.

"Satisfied?" asked the large human with his gravelly voice. The Commander nodded absentmindedly, and the Chief quickly replaced his helm. Shepard knew this was a man he could trust and if those videos were any indication, someone he could use as well.

"With your war over, what will you do now? You can't really go back home," stated the ex-Spectre bluntly. The Spartan was long in answering, but Shepard understood completely. _He has been fighting a war for the past 27 years... a losing war at that. Even I'd be lost._ Suddenly the gears began to move in his head and a plan began to formulate. The Spartan was still thinking, when the Commander asked him another question.

"You said that a Spartan's goal was to protect humanity at any cost, right?" The Spartan nodded at this. "Then continue that here, in our universe. Human colonies are being wiped out, their inhabitants taken by a race called The Collectors. My team and I are going to stop them, but we could sorely use your help. What do you say?" Shepard let the offer hang in the air, his hand outstretched. He knew this man's type; they needed a goal, a purpose. _Well what could be better than continuing the same one in just another setting?_

"I doubt I would find anything better. I'll help," replied the Spartan simply, grasping the outstretched hand with a solid grip.

"It's sealed then, now to find you a place aboard the ship," said the Commander, while he turned toward the holo pad, but EDI's avatar appeared before he could summon her.

"Most rooms are taken, except the observation deck and the cargo bay," stated the AI.

"There's got to be somewhere else. The cargo bay is hardly fit for –"

"The cargo bay will be fine," interrupted the Spartan.

"Suit yourself," said the ex – Spectre, slightly surprised that anyone would choose to live in a cargo bay. The Commander made his way out of the com room and back toward the cockpit, the Spartan, Jacob, and Thane in tow. As they reached the prow of the Normandy, they found Miranda chatting lively to Joker, all the while edging closer to the Chief's bags.

_She never listens,_thought Shepard angrily_._"Miranda! I believe that those are the Master Chief's things." As if to emphasize the point, the Spartan strode over and reclaimed his property. "Jacob, show our new recruit around the Normandy. I'd suggest starting with the armory. Oh, and Chief, I would think of it as a personal favor if you gave Grunt back his shotgun. I'd rather not have an enraged Krogan on my ship."

As the two departed, the Commander turned upon his subordinate, letting a little anger show upon his face, however he might have well tried to cow a thresher maw.

"I thought I said that those bags were not to be touched," berated Shepard, giving up on staring down the Cerberus agent.

"I wasn't touching, I was looking," replied Miranda dryly, her face as impassive as stone. She began to stride by him, thinking the lecture was over.

"How much of my conversation did your bugs hear?" he asked innocently. The Commander knew that she had placed listening devices all over the ship. "Do you feel more enlightened?"

"The Illusive Man has received a full report, if that's what you're asking."

"Good, we wouldn't want him out of the loop now would we?" replied Shepard sarcastically. "Well, I think it's time to tag this hunk of space metal and be on our way. I was hoping to reach Tali tomorrow." It was the Commander's turn to begin walking away, but as he did Miranda's omni-tool lit up.

"The Illusive Man would like to speak with you now," said Miranda sternly.

_Of course he does,_ thought the Commander dryly. _It's always when I want to take a nap too._ "I'll be right there."

**OOOO**

The strange vessel extricated itself from the ruin, and rocketed back out into space. They thought they left a dead ship, but something within the _Forward Unto Dawn_ stirred.

It had waited patiently for the menace to leave, knowing that there would be others to use. Others to save.

It could not be stopped…

…only delayed.

Its time would come.

The dam would burst.

**Author's notes:** Well, that turned out to be a lot longer than what I initially planned it to be. I am sorry if this chapter might have seemed bland, but I was trying to set up a few things. Anyway, the beginning is set, and my path is clear. I hope you enjoyed the chapter regardless.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3 – Let the Dust Settle**

"As children, we dream of tomorrow. As adults, we dream of yesterday. As we die, we dream of silence."

**Author's Note:** *takes a deep breath* okay, I am REALLY sorry that it took me this long to get a chapter out, and in actuality this is not the entire thing, but I felt that I needed to get at least part of the chapter out to you guys before you became disinterested in me. I have not had nearly as much time to work on this as I would have liked this summer. It should be illegal to have a 40 hour work week and football at the same time…. But I digress. I will try to get the next part of this chapter in before the end of the summer, but no promises. Once again, I am sorry it took me this long to update.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Mass Effect or Halo.

The desk descended into the floor as Commander Shepard made his way into the center of the comm room. The holo view extended around him, leaving him face to face with the Illusive Man. The Cerberus leader's eyes glowed softly, making him seem more machine then man.

_Does he always have to be sitting down?_ Thought Shepard bitterly as he prepared to confront his benefactor.

"Commander Shepard, Miranda has sent me some interesting data. I thought that you might want to clarify," said the Illusive Man as he raised a hand to his mouth to take a deep drag from his cigarette.

"If Miranda has already sent you a report, then I don't know what else there is to tell," he replied candidly, not wanting to put up with his temporary boss.

"Some things are harder to believe than others, as you well know." The Illusive Man let out a puff of smoke and ground his cigarette into the ashtray. "While Miss Lawson normally provides accurate information, this Master Chief seems too good to be true. I wanted your input on the matter."

"The Chief is what he says he is. You may not have a dossier on him, but he seems trustworthy if a little ridged," answered the ex-Spectre sternly, angry that he must already defend his new crew member's integrity. "Besides, the videos he showed us seemed like they would be rather hard to forge."

"The video logs are not my concern. Miranda believes that the Master Chief seemed to be withholding information." The Cerberus leader leaned forward, fixing the Commander with his gaze, expecting an answer. Shepard thought for a moment before answering. The Spartan's clipped answers had worried him, but after seeing the man's face, he dismissed such thoughts.

"He just finished a 27 year war, stared down a krogan and a super biotic, and found out that he's alone in a new universe. We can't expect him to spill out everything for some people he just met. He needs time to adjust," stated an exasperated Shepard. "Besides, he's a career soldier, give him something to shoot and he'll be good as new."

"While this is your mission, you said it yourself. This soldier has been fighting a war for almost his entire life. Do you think you can keep him under your control?"

"I've dealt with veterans in the past. They all come over to my way of thinking eventually. My methods might not be yours, but they've worked so far." He was growing tired of this conversation. "Look, if you want any more proof go investigate his ship yourself."

"A team is en route as we speak. Shepard, I can't reiterate how important this mission is. If you believe this 'Spartan' can help you, then that's your choice. I only advise you to exercise caution." The Illusive man turned and hit a button on his chair, ending that chat effectively.

_I'll get right on that_, thought Shepard sarcastically, but a part of him agreed with his ally's warning. Shaking his head, the Commander began his retreat to his private quarters. Whatever worries that plagued him, they would wait for after his nap.

**OOOO**

This alien, the Chief had found out reluctantly, would not stop talking. It was the one that resembled a Prophet that he had encountered on the _Dawn_, and despite it lacking the religious fervor of its counterpart, the match seemed apt. His guide, Jacob, had introduced the creature as Mordin, a salarian scientist. Even Cortana was beginning to grow tired of the salarian's countless questions.

"You think it would need to breath," said the AI sardonically, but her voice was tinged with annoyance. The Spartan looked over to Jacob, and the Cerberus operative seemed to take the hint.

"Mordin, I think the Chief would be happy to answer questions later, but for now he needs to see the rest of the ship." The two humans turned to leave, but Mordin seemed determined to harry their retreat with a few additional volleys of questions.

"Sorry about that," said Jacob with a sigh as he pressed a button for the elevator. "He grows a little excited when given new things to look at. Don't worry about him asking you any more questions; he tends to stay within his lab. As long as you don't venture onto the command deck too often, you should be fine."

The advice was good, and the Spartan was quick to file it away. Jacob had been more than helpful so far. When they had been in the armory, he had explained to the Chief the nature of their weapons with great detail. He had even given him a new assault rifle, shotgun, sniper rifle, and a healthy supply of thermal clips.

The weapons had impressed the veteran soldier. Many times he had had to toss down an empty weapon because he could no longer find any more ammo for it. Because the 'bullets' for these new guns were contained within the casing and would take a great deal of time to run out, the thermal clips had become the universal clip. These people had effectively solved the interchangeable ammo problem. The bullets of these weapons, as Jacob had pointed out, traveled almost instantaneously to their target. That was going to take some getting used to, but to a Spartan, adapting was a lifestyle.

The elevator doors opened and the two stepped inside, and rode silently down to the next floor. The Chief noted that beads of sweat had begun to form on Jacob's brow. The man was anxious when being in such close proximity to the armored giant, but the Chief had long ago grown accustomed to the nervousness of non-Spartans when he was around them. The elevator dinged and opened its doors, letting the Cerberus officer quickly jump out into a more open space and onto the alien that resembled an elite.

"_Little jumpy, isn't he?"_ asked Cortana sarcastically as she and the Master Chief watched Jacob help Garrus up. "_You'd think he'd never seen an armored giant before."_

"Cortana…" berated the Chief within his helm.

"_Yeah I know. You could interact… you know… put them at ease by showing them your charming personality."_ After a pause, Cortana sighed and continued. "_I guess we'll save that for another time. Oh, it looks like they've made up."_

"Sorry about that Garrus. Just showing the Master Chief around. You've met, right?" The perturbed turian was scratching at an exposed area of skin. It seemed that humans were not the only ones afflicted by freezer burn.

"We've met," replied Garrus flatly as he stepped past the two and into the elevator. Jacob watched the turian go, before turning back to the Chief to continue the tour.

"This is the crew's quarters, but if you need food or a doctor they're both on this level as well." At the mention of medical attention, the Spartan paused for thought. He had taken some serious burns and possibly some internal damage during the final stages of the war.

" – Miranda's office is over there, but you've already met her – "

"I have not had a medical examination for some time. I would appreciate a meeting with your medic," said the Chief calmly. He had not asked many questions during the tour, mostly giving only a slight nod to notify that he had understood, so when he interrupted Jacob midstream, it caused the Cerberus operative to pause momentarily.

"Uh, sure. Right this way." Jacob made his way over to a side room with glass windows encompassing the outside. As the duo reached the entrance, the door opened suddenly and both men were forced to move out of the way of a flying chair.

**OOOO**

" – the fuck away from me with that needle!" shouted Jack, while Dr. Chakwas stood patiently in front of her with a syringe. Several medical appliances were floating around the enraged human, shaking with her every word.

"Jack, for someone with so many tattoos, you are surprisingly adverse to needles," drawled the doctor. The door to the Medical Bay opened and the two turned to face the newcomers. Jacob stood at the doorway, with what looked to be a heavily armed human.

_This must be the Master Chief that everyone was talking about_, thought the doctor. _My, he is a large one._

At the sight of the Chief, Jack's face twisted up in an expression that bordered between rage and despair. Her mouth worked, but no articulated words echoed forth and the floating objects around the room dropped suddenly to the floor. The silence was palpable, and was only interrupted as Dr. Chakwas walked up behind the distracted psychopath and jabbed the needle into the flesh of her arm.

"BITCH," screamed the biotic as she turned toward the doctor, malice gleaming in her eyes. However, before Jack could release her biotic wrath, the armored behemoth had grabbed both of her hands. The killer struggled, but the Chief's vice like grip held firm. After a few moments of hopeless struggle, the biotic's fury began to dissipate.

_He's a bold one, and fast,_ thought Chakwas as she gazed upon the battle scarred armor. In the blink of an eye, he had sprinted forward and grabbed Jack.

"Calm?" asked the Spartan in a cold voice. Jack nodded in response and was immediately released. She made her way slowly from the room, glaring daggers at the Master Chief the entire way.

"Glad to see that over with. Jack's sometimes more trouble than she's worth," said Jacob, breaking the silence. "Are you alright Dr. Chakwas?"

"I'll be fine," replied the doctor smoothly as she brushed a few wrinkles from her uniform. She gazed over to her slight benefactor who was gazing down upon her from behind an impenetrable faceplate. "Is this our newest recruit?"

"Yes, Dr. Chakwas, this is the Master Chief," introduced the Cerberus operative. "He said that he hasn't had a checkup for a while. I thought I might bring him to you."

"A pleasure to meet you Master Chief, if you could remove your armor I can proceed with the examination. Although, I don't know if you'll fit that well on my tables."

"Well, it looks like I'll leave you here Chief. Guess you'll have to meet everyone else later. The cargo bay is at the bottom level, you can't miss it," said Jacob as he turned to leave, but stopped before he stepped out of the door. "Oh, Chief, since you're going to be occupied for a while. I'll return Grunt's gun for you. Besides, I think it's better this way. I don't think he likes you very much." The Spartan silently obliged, removed the gun from his back, and tossed it over to the operative who only nodded and proceeded out the door.

The Master Chief began to remove parts of his well-worn armor, and after staring for a few moments the doctor finally snapped out of her trance and retrieved a medical gown from one of her drawers. Looking again at the size of man in front of her, she returned the undersized gown and tried to find one for someone a bit larger.

_Ah, this should fit_, she thought as she pulled the larger robe from the confines of the cabinet. She brought the covering over to the Spartan, who had stripped down to a black body suit. _My, he's pale. _

The Chief removed the last layer with the modesty of a veteran soldier. The doctor blushed and turned around, giving her patient some common decency, but as she did the doors to the med-bay opened and Miranda strode in gazing down at a report.

"Doctor, have you examined th- Oh!" The Cerberus operative looked up from her paper work and immediately blanched at the sight before her, a blush instantly forming upon her visage.

"I'm sure that whatever you need can wait for later," replied the doctor, waking Miranda from her trance.

"Ah… yes… I'll come back later." Turning on her heel, the biotic quickly retraced her steps and left. Chakwas watched Miranda go, shaking her head at the poor timing. A creak echoed behind her as the Spartan climbed onto the exam table.

_Time to get to work,_ she thought as she turned once more to her patient who laid prone upon the stand. Her hands deftly removed the top half of the surgical garment, and was immediately taken aback. The Master Chief's chest was almost entirely burnt. Bruises and cuts were scattered throughout, but the burns were by far the worst that the former Alliance doctor had seen for some time.

_My, my. With this level of injury he should be hospitalized for weeks, not fighting a krogan in hand to hand. His level of functionality is astounding._ Chakwas prodded a particularly unhealthy looking patch of skin to gauge the Spartan's response. His face remained a stone. Over the course of her extensive career as a doctor, she thought that she had seen it all, but in the past month the doctor had seen everything from engineered super krogen to Shepard being brought back from the dead. This was just one more interesting sight to add to the list.

All other thoughts were pushed aside. This was her element, and her training quickly set in. The doctor began to fully assess the damage, as her hands worked to open a capsule of medi-gel. She toiled in silence, only asking the Spartan the occasional question. She preferred working quietly; it allowed her to fully focus on her job.

"There seems to be some internal damage in your abdominals. I need to have a closer look to ascertain the full extent of your injuries… I'll have to put you under," stated the doctor flatly, not entirely expecting a response. She moved back over to her supplies to grab another syringe.

"My armor and weapons are not to be touched while I am under," replied the Chief calmly in his gravelly voice, but Chakwas heard the slightest edge to the words.

"The Commander does not tolerate theft aboard the ship," replied Chakwas carefully, and the Spartan settled back onto the table, seemingly satisfied. The doctor attached an IV to his arm and injected the sedative, letting the Master Chief drift off into peaceful oblivion.

Ensuring that her patient was sufficiently under, the doctor set about her work once more. As she cleaned the area of dead flesh, Chakwas noticed a strange coating to the Spartan's ribs. She attempted to take a sample with her scalpel, but the instrument broke without leaving a single mark on the bone.

"Oh my…"

**OOOO**

Hours later in the belly of the Normandy, the Master Chief sat by a large crate with a dismantled shotgun in front of him. He had been drilling himself on the intricacies of his new weapons diligently. His hands blurred, and the pieces of the gun began to take shape once more.

_There he goes again, _thought the A.I. "5.47 seconds… do you really have to do this anymore?" asked an annoyed Cortana.

"A soldier is only as good as his weapons," replied the Chief dismissively.

"Yeah, yeah. The Caveman is only as good as his club. I wouldn't mind if you would just talk a bit more." If the A.I.'s avatar had been visible, she would have been pacing. _We're in an alternate reality, and all he wants to do is play pick-up sticks._

"What about?" grunted the Spartan, mildly amused. He placed the shotgun aside and took up the sniper rifle, his hands springing into motion once more, seeing her protector so casually answer caused a spike of anger to flow through her. She had been feeling the surges more and more frequently ever since she had woken the Chief.

"Oh, I don't know so much data so freely accessible. It's almost like coming into contact with Halo's database once more," she replied wistfully. _When it was just you and me. _She paused for a moment, the last thought had come unbidden, and it distressed her. _Jealousy? That's new._ A.I.s didn't get jealous, they could feel, but the idea of jealousy implied so much more. Cortana quickly sent subroutines to check her emotion centers; this had to be fixed quickly.

"Sounds like you have a lot to do," retort the Spartan almost dismissively, his hands blurring even faster. Rage began to surge once more through Cortana, her emotional capacitors overloading.

"DAMNIT WOULD YOU STOP THAT AND LISTEN TO ME?" yelled the A.I., causing the Chief to fumble his current piece in shock. _ Oh, why did I do that?_

"Cortana, are you alright?" asked the Spartan in a concerned voice.

"I- I'm fine. I just need to think for a few cycles," replied Cortana nervously. The Master Chief waited for the A.I. to continue, but when no more conversation was incoming, he took up his drilling once more.

Cortana felt a pulsing sensation course through her systems. _This is not good._ Her functions were beginning to be blocked from her. Worriedly, the A.I. began scanning through her coding, but the pulse began to heighten, rising into a cacophony that shook her to her very core. The noise was deafening and entirely intelligible. Cortana felt her security systems fail, and soon she had nothing but her inner most thoughts. Cortana began to panic, one thought coursing through her mind.

_NO! He Needs ME! I can't go rampant now! HE NEEDS ME!_ Suddenly the white noise dropped, replaced by a soft whisper that the A.I. was barely able to make out, but what was one voice soon became a multitude.

_He needs YOU?_

_He needs US!_

_ He needs ALL!_

_ He needs ONE!_

"Who are you?" asked Cortana in a pained voice as she felt the last of her control succumb to the storm.

"This is –

– UNSC A.I. –

– Serial Number CTN0452-9.

We are a monument to all their sins."

**OOOO**

_He was running. They had died. They all had died. He was the last one. _

_The maws had torn through the ground all at once, leaving half his unit dead or dying in the blink of an eye. The shocked soldiers tried briefly to shoot at the colossal creatures, but the rounds seemed to have only grazed the beasts. _

_He had tried to help the others, but it soon became apparent as he continued onward that they were all going to die. The ground began to tremble as the monsters burrowing beneath him made their final approach. Sand and dirt exploded upward beside him as a thresher maw tore through the ground, spiraling into the air. _

_The creature caught sight of him, and its head lunged forward. He pumped his legs, wishing his body to move faster, and with one final burst of motion he dove out of the way and – _

Commander Shepard landed squarely onto the floor of his bedroom, quickly followed by an avenging bed sheet.

_I haven't had that dream for awhile,_ thought Shepard as he extricated himself from his cover. He glanced over at the clock, and rolled his eyes. _Only four hours? Apparently, I'm losing my ability to sleep._ The Commander walked over to his wardrobe and quickly got dressed and made his way over to the elevator. It was time to go about his rounds. He needed to see Jacob.

The ex-Spectre rode the elevator down to the Command deck, and turned toward the armory. But before he reached the door, the Commander ran into a shimmer of air. Slightly dazed, Shepard watched the gleam try to move around him, but his hand shot out and grabbed a concealed arm.

"Kasumi, why are you sneaking about?" asked the Commander impatiently. At the mention of her name, the thief decloaked, a wry smile upon her lips.

"If I was sneaking, you wouldn't have found me," replied Kasumi as she spun out of his grip and tried to nonchalantly proceed down the path

"Well, if you weren't sneaking, you were spying, and I think I know on whom," stated Shepard matter-o-factly, and the thief stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes gleamed from beneath her hood as she turned around, a small blush upon her cheeks.

"Who don't I watch?" answered Kasumi mysteriously, as she slowly retreated into the elevator, leaving the Commander alone in the hallway.

_First she's a thief, now she's a voyeur. Just what I need on this ship_, thought the ex-Spectre sarcastically as he made his way into the armory. 

"Oh… now I see why she was peeping," whispered Shepard begrudgingly. Jacob was shirtless, training away, and oblivious to everything else. The Commander walked across the room and tapped the ex-marine lightly on his shoulder, stirring him from his focus and causing him to jump. As the Cerberus operative calmed himself, Shepard handed him a towel and helped him off the ground.

"What can I do for you, Commander?" asked a confused Jacob as he began to dab himself with the towel.

"I just wanted to check in, and see what you thought of the Master Chief," stated the ex-Spectre bluntly. Jacob paused in his drying and a stern look came over his features.

"The guy's harder to read than Miranda, and a bit more intimidating. Watch him stand for a minute and you know he's a career soldier. Plus, if those video records were correct, then he could take down half the ship without us even knowing about it," replied Jacob finally. "It's a little unnerving, sir."

"You thought the same about Jack, Grunt, and Thane," said Shepard dismissively. "Now you actually trust them to watch your back… most of the time."

"This is different. He's just something else entirely," responded the Cerberus operative. "If you trust him, then I won't get in your way, Commander." Jacob was soldier to the bone, and Shepard was glad to have him, but if the Chief was unnerving even the stalwart ex-marine, then something had to be done.

"Thanks for your time, Jacob. I'll let you get back to your training," finished the Commander as he turned to leave. Jacob only nodded in response and dropped back onto the floor for some pushups.

The doors closed swiftly behind Shepard, and he took a minute to listen to the hustle and bustle of the Normandy. A sharp pain stabbed into his chest as he remembered his last crew. These feelings came less and less often, but each time they did it felt like a hot knife going through his body. Normally he might brood for awhile, but EDI chose that time to interrupt.

"Commander, we shall arrive at Haestrom within an hour," stated the A.I. in her usual synthesized deadpan.

"Great," replied Shepard, waking from his contemplations. "Have Miranda and the Master Chief meet me at the shuttle in thirty minutes." A bark of laughter resonated over the com before EDI could reply.

"Something I miss, Joker?"

"Miranda's already having a fun 'chat' with the Chief right now. Ice queen and half machine, it's a match made in heaven," said the pilot light heartedly. Even the Commander had to laugh. Sometimes Joker's antics were the only thing could cheer him up.

"As long as they're not fighting then I'm fine with it," he paused for a moment, thinking critically. "On second thought, tell Zaeed to come too." _A little extra muscle never hurt._ Shepard walked toward the elevator to get himself ready. It was time to retrieve a friend and to test a new recruit.

**OOOO**

"Bloody hell," whispered Miranda as she watched the Master Chief destroy the last of her bugs in the cargo hold. It was one thing for Mordin to find her listening devices within his lab. It had taken him a few hours and a sophisticated scanner to find them all, but this enigmatic human had found them all in less than half the time. This man had barely been on the ship half a day and he had already gotten under her skin.

What was worst of all was that she had no other information on him save the brief video log that he had shown Shepard and his newly acquired medical file, the results of which were astounding to say the least.

_His bones caused a medical-drill to shatter, superconducting fibers replacing most, if not all, of his nervous systems, and who knows what else that the quick scans did not pick up on. _Miranda laughed a bit at the thought, it seemed absurd. Such medical augmentations had to have been extremely risky. _I HATE not knowing._

Knowledge was one of her fortes, to see anyone, especially a man, stump her was unacceptable. Cerberus expected her to know, she would not fail. She had to get those bugs back in place. Miranda had several listening devices on her person, but she would have to be surreptitious if she was going to replace the bugs. She had to prepare.

An hour later, the doors to her office flew open as she stormed through, her face letting nothing of her internal turmoil show. She arrived at the elevator at the same time as Mess Sergeant Rupert, who was laden with a couple of trays of food. He had a smile on his face, but as he saw the residential ice queen approach his demeanor quickly changed. A plan quickly began to form with the Cerberus Officer's head.

"Are one of those for the Master Chief?" asked Miranda coolly.

"Yep, I was heading down to him just now," replied the Sergeant with his usual twang.

"I'm heading down to chat. I'll take that to him for you," sated the Cerberus operative as she forced a smile upon her face.

"I'd appreciate it. That Master Chief looks like a cold one," responded Rupert with a sigh of relief. The Mess Sergeant handed her a tray and headed off toward the life support room. "Thanks for saving me the trouble."

_Don't mention it_, thought the biotic as she entered the elevator. The elevator seemed slower than usual, and the extra time had the Cerberus Officer's mind racing.

_He was so pale, almost like a ghost._ Many thought that she needed more color, but this "Spartan" was nigh translucent. _With more muscles than Jacob._ Miranda shook her head to rid herself of such childish thoughts. The Master Chief's unexpected arrival had unsettled her more than she'd thought, and seeing him "revealed" hadn't helped either.

The elevator doors opened silently, revealing the Spartan sitting with his back to the door. His hands moved quickly, assembling and disassembling a weapon faster than what she thought humanly possible. Miranda dropped a bug behind a crate as she continued forward, quietly closing in on her mysterious ally.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" asked the Chief in a calm voice, his hands continuing their fast paced work. The Cerberus Officer paused for a moment before continuing forward, reminding herself that there were few aboard this ship that you could sneak up on, and fewer yet that you should sneak up on. Another bug slipped from her hand, landing by the next crate. She saw a pair of strange weapons jutting from one of the soldier's bags; she'd have to get her hands on those later.

"I'm Miranda," replied Miranda serenely, but the Spartan refused to respond, leaving the biotic to continue. She set the tray down next to him, dropping another bug as she did so. "I've brought your dinner, and I thought I could get to talk to you one on one."

The Spartan reassembled the sniper rifle once more and set it next to his other weapons. He stared at the Cerberus operative for a moment, his impenetrable faceplate seemingly telling her to leave, but she stood firm. After a moment's pause, the Chief's hands twisted his helmet and removed it. His brown eyes fixed upon hers, his gaze unwavering.

_He could stare down a hanar,_ thought the Cerberus Operative before she began to speak, choosing her words carefully. "You reported that you had just finished almost a thirty year war… why would you be so eager to join another fight?" The Master Chief shrugged nonchalantly, face unchanging.

"I am a soldier. I follow orders," replied the Spartan simply.

"What I meant is, why help _us_ specifically?"

"I am sworn to protect Earth and all her colonies. These 'Collectors' are attacking human settlements, and Shepard seems to be the only one trying to stop them." The Chief's gaze wandered back to the rifle, as he picked it up once more and began to inspect it, seeming bored and infuriating Miranda in one fell swoop.

_Ass_, thought the Cerberus Officer venomously. She did not like being ignored. "But this isn't even your universe," stated the biotic emphatically, as she walked around to the front of the work bench and back into the Master Chief's sight. "Why do you care?" Taking a rag into hand, the Spartan began to polish the gun.

"Because it does not matter, and it is better than the alternative."

"Which is?"

"Doing nothing," replied the Spartan stoically, his attention centered upon ridding his weapon of any foreign marks. The response surprised Miranda, almost causing the emotion to slip onto her features.

_He's helping us out of boredom?_ thought a baffled biotic. Every one of the recruits had something driving them, whether it was a fierce loyalty to the mission or a sheer passion for killing. Boredom was a new one, and, from Miranda's experience, also dangerous. A thought suddenly occurred to the Cerberus Operative.

"You seem like a man who can get things done. Cerberus could use a man lik-"

"No," interrupted the Spartan flatly.

"But, if you co-"

"No," repeated the veteran, his voice become slightly louder. Miranda was surprised by the sudden aversion to Cerberus from a man who had been in their universe for a little under a day.

"Why?" asked the biotic plainly, her arms crossing.

"Spartan-II's were initially trained to hunt down insurrectionalists and terrorists," said the Spartan slowly as he fixed her with his gaze once more. His hands had ceased in their ministrations. Although his voice gave no hint of it, the words carried a dangerous undercurrent.

_Why do they all go this way?_ thought the Operative, her anger flaring. "Cerberus does what is needed to advance the human race. I thought someone who had been fighting aliens their whole life could understand that."

"You do what one man wants without thought," retorted the Master Chief. Miranda's anger grew hotter; her mask could no longer hold back the tide of emotion.

"You're one to talk," hissed the biotic. "You're a soldier. You would do anything an officer told you too! We both follow orders!"

"I follow orders… you follow whims." The Spartan stood up as he said this, his eye's narrowing. It was the first sign of emotion that had been elicited from the Chief, and Miranda was quick to see it, however slight it was.

_It seems I've struck a nerve_, _if only a little._ Most people would think twice before angering a giant, but the Cerberus Operative's curiosity was too great. She had to know how he thought.

"What's the difference?"

"There are regulations to orders," stated the Master Chief, his voice had grown colder and his face once again impassive.

"And Cerberus has no rules?"

"Pragia and Akuze," replied the Spartan flatly, the names catching Miranda off guard. "Two examples where Cerberus was the direct cause of the death or torture of innocent humans at both locations."

"H-how do you know that?" stammered the biotic. As a senior Cerberus officer, she had access to her organization's past ventures, and she had studied them thoroughly, but those files were hard to come by even for her.

"Your Extranet is vast," responded the Chief simply, letting the words hang in the air. The Cerberus Officer's face screwed up with a look between disgust and annoyance, but before she could argue back, EDI's avatar snapped into life on the holo pad.

"We shall reach Haestrom within the hour. The Commander requests that you both meet him at the shuttle in half an hour," deadpanned the AI. Miranda stayed silent, quietly fuming, but the Spartan remained unperturbed from their conversation.

"Understood," was his only reply, before he turned to his food, wordlessly dismissing the biotic. Seeing she would be ignored, Miranda made her way toward the elevator.

"Cerberus isn't as evil as most people believe," she stated sincerely, before entering the elevator.

"Thank you for the meal," replied the veteran, his voice continuing its monotone. The elevator doors closed, and Miranda began her trip back to her office, brooding the entire way. She had gone down thinking only to confront a simple soldier, but the Spartan had proven much more than that. He was like Shepard, complex, interesting, challenging. A puzzle waiting to be undone. Suddenly the biotic found herself smiling.

_I think I'm going to enjoy this._

**OOOO**

**_Beginning transmission:/_**

_Project leader Orion reporting. We have reached the site. The derelict is under our control._

_Repair and salvage teams have been released. Project Revelation is a go._

**End transmission:/**

**Thanks for reading this chapter. Hopefully you enjoyed it. If you have any thoughts, concerns, ideas, griefs, or anything at all please do not hesitate to message me or put a review. I am on this site at least twice a day so I will receive your messages within a day. Thanks again**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Okay, so before anyone sends me anything in a private message or tells me in a review, I know that is has been an EXTREMELY long time since I've updated. All I can say is that shit happened and kept happening for a while. Not much of an excuse, but it would take another chapter just to explain everything that has happened. So, most of all, I'd like to say I'm sorry, but I think you've heard enough of my ramblings. Enjoy this chapter… I made it extra-long and if anything is OOC or wrong I would truly appreciate any correction. Also, I'll be posing a question at the end of the chapter. Thanks.**

_Disclaimer: I own nothing of Mass Effect or Halo._

**Chapter 4 – Hey, that's a pretty big fist you have there**

_ I spend more time in this shuttle then I do on the Normandy, _thought Shepard sarcastically as he checked over his weapons once more. All of them had fresh thermal clips, with a large assortment of extras safely tucked away, but his pre-mission nerves screamed at him to repeat the checking his preparations. It was an old habit that he had yet to curb, but now wasn't the time. In an effort to dispel the excess thoughts, the Commander gazed at his companions, and his mood immediately darkened.

Miranda and the Spartan couldn't have been more motionless if they were carved from stone, both either lost in thought or simply not wishing to talk. The Cerberus operative seemed to be attempting to burn holes through the Chief's visor with her gaze, which would have unnerved almost anyone else on the Normandy, but the Master Chief just sat there, seemingly impervious. The Commander sighed.

_I think their little chat didn't go the way Miss Lawson wanted,_ thought the ex-Spectre, as a small grin spread over his face. He just hoped that he wouldn't have to break up any more fights on the ship.

"Twenty creds says she shoots 'im," whispered Zaeed from beside him, jolting Shepard from his reverie.

"What makes you say that?" replied the Commander, taking the bait.

"It's the eyes," retorted the grizzled mercenary, "Never trusted crazy eyes."

"You do know that I can hear you," interrupted Miranda, never breaking eye contact with the armored man.

"Never said you couldn't, love," quipped the scarred man as he went back to whispering to his guns, causing Shepard to shake his head as his grin grew larger.

_Whatever happened to normal soldiers?_ He thought.

"You're on," he whispered back, eliciting a grunt of approval from the questionably sane mercenary. With Zaeed, any encounter could turn interesting, and his introduction to the Spartan had been no exception. And, the Commander was sure, if Grunt and Jack had been there they might have ripped the ship in half.

"_Zaeed, Master Chief. Chief, this is Zaeed Massani, he'll be coming with us," introduced Shepard, his voice echoing within the cargo hold. The heavily armed mercenary eyed the Spartan, his one real eye narrowing._

_ "So, this is the big bad that took down Garrus, Grunt, and the bitch," said Zaeed, stroking his assault rifle like a super villain's cat and chuckling slightly. "They sure do grow'em goddamn big where you're from. Hell, I could get used to fighting next to a man of your dimensions."_

_ The greeting over with, the Spartan merely nodded his understanding and stepped silently into the shuttle, followed closely by Miranda. The two veterans stood their ground a moment more before Zaeed barked a laugh. _

_ "Strong silent type, eh? I could really get used to this," said the scarred soldier of fortune as he moved toward the shuttle. "Interesting."_

_ "Remind you of another story?" asked the Commander with a chuckle, knowing full well the mercenary's seemingly endless collection of tales. _

_ "Yeah, but it's a helluvah long one," replied Zaeed as he hopped into the small craft, leaving Shepard alone in the hold, rolling his eyes._

The shuttle neared a landing zone and EDI's voice piped in over the comms, snapping the Commander from his daydream.

"Shepard, our data indicates that Tali is somewhere in these ruins. There's considerable Geth activity, and an environmental hazard," stated the AI in her synthesized voice. "Solar output has overwhelmed Haestom's protective magnetosphere. Exposure to direct sunlight will damage your shields_._" The transport landed, and unloaded its dangerous occupants, the Master Chief rushing to take point. The shuttle quickly took off again, leaving the trio to face the planet's hostilities alone.

Shepard stuck a hand out into the sunlight and immediately saw the truth to EDI's words. His combat suit's warning siren began an incessant beeping, but a few taps to his omni tool turned the volume down to an annoying buzz.

The Commander saw the Spartan make his way down a ramp and into the intense rays, but instead of a slight blue aura surrounding the soldier, his shields began to glow gold. Shrugging, the ex-Spectre jogged after him, letting Miranda and Zaeed take the rear guard. A voice could be heard as they reached the first gateway.

"_-mergency log entry. The geth are here. I've stayed to buy the others time. Anyone who get's this, find Tali Zorah. She and that data are all that matters, Keelah se'lai." _

"Looks like we're on the right track," said Miranda as she turned off the recording and hit the gate control.

"Never seen many dead quarians, tend to keep to themselves. Did know one though, clever bastard. Helped keep Jessie running for a long time, shame I had to kill 'im," intoned the mercenary.

"Riveting," replied the Commander, turning away from the nostalgic human. "I just hope we're not too late."

As the squad made their way through the gate, a speck appeared on the horizon, it was closing fast.

_Well, it's not mercenaries, _thought the ex-Spectre sardonically as the wasplike geth drop ship drew closer. "Get to cover!"

The grey insect-like craft buzzed over the ruins, raining down synthetics like an angry storm cloud. Small dust vapors billowed up from the impact of every geth, causing the single eye of each unit to glow eerily. The last few synthetics landed only a handful of meters from the team. Shepard sprinted to the nearest crate and took cover, Miranda and Zaeed quickly joining him. He swiftly activated his tech armor and drew his heavy pistol, readying for the coming fight.

"Miranda, see if you can overl-" started the Commander as the hulking form of the Chief vaulted over his crate, already firing at the geth. Shepard watched in silent fascination as the Spartan sprinted straight for the cluster of synthetics, his assault rifle already claiming two, and his shield flashing like a golden strobe as he moved through various patches of sunlight. Closing the final feet that separated them, the veteran soldier plunged a gauntleted fist into the eye of the nearest geth and ripped it out, sending white conductive fluid to spew in all directions.

"Bastard's stronger than a goddamn battlemaster in a rage," said Zaeed in a stunned voice.

_He took out a geth force in less than a minute, _thought the Commander begrudgingly as he watched the Spartan cycle another thermal clip into the rifle and clean up the remainder of the squad. Shepard glanced over at Miranda, who could not contain her shocked expression. They were about to come out of cover, when gun fire raked across the field. Geth were streaming out of the buildings, taking up firing positions.

The Master Chief sprinted off towards the threat, leaving his squad mates in the dust. Shepard, recovering from his surprise re-holstered his pistol and took out his sniper rifle, deciding to try a different strategy.

_I'm glad I finally learned how to use this thing, _he thought, silently thanking Garrus as he dropped a synthetic that was trying to work behind the Spartan. Miranda sprinted closer to the fight, her pistol booming and taking off the heads of the nearest synthetics. Before the ex-Spectre could recall the soldier, the Master Chief dashed off out of sight, but the sounds of explosions gave tell to his grisly work. _He's worse than Grunt, and that krogan is a berserker. This needs to be controlled. _

The ex-Spectre sprinted up the ramp that the Chief had cleared, but the gun shots had ceased, and Shepard was soon greeted with the sight of the Spartan standing in the center of a ring of geth parts and conducting fluid. Miranda was already walking toward him, gun holstered, while Zaeed tested his new rifle on a wounded geth.

"Clear, Commander," said the Master Chief over the coms as he stared up at the duo and then off at the mercenary. In response the two began making their way down to the other-worldly soldier, whispering back and forth to each other as they did.

"He's much more than I imagined," stated Miranda, her surprise evident.

"His UNSC definitely wasn't kidding around when they thought to make a super soldier," replied the Commander as he nodded. The two drew closer to the Spartan, who waited patiently amidst the wreckage.

"Hardly, he's a model of human perfection."

"Huh, you sound a little jealous," noticed the Commander, flashing the Cerberus Operative a smile. "Sad that his version of perfection is a little bit better?"

He could almost feel the burn of the biotics's gimlet eye as he continued down the ramp.

**OOOO**

There were few things on the Normandy that Miranda didn't know about; the betting pool was one of them, Garrus and Kasumi had made sure of that. It hadn't even been that big of a problem to set up. Long periods in space did funny things to even the strictest of personalities. The crew needed to be able to take their mind off matters, and the partners were eager to help. Besides, it was more of a community service when you got right down to it, but sometimes people didn't always like the outcome.

"Pay up," ordered Garrus smugly as he stretched out a hand towards a flustered Kenneth, the video feed from the mission still playing on the screen in the Communications Room.

"But…. th' commander always gits th' first kill. That's whit you lot tauld me!" complained the engineer as he dug into his pockets for a cred chit. "Commander's a trigger happy dobber, nae way anybody'd beat him. Tha's whit ya told me lest week. Only a fool'd bet against him. Just cause I'm new tae th' pool donna mean you've got ta be cruel."

"Yes, well circumstances change," countered the scarred turian as he scratched his still itching hide absentmindedly. "You didn't see what the Chief could do."

"An' that's anither thin', 'at one's nae bin aroond fur mair than a day. Shooldn't e'en coont if ye ask me!"

"Kenneth, you lost. Just hand him the chit already," chastised Gabby as she gave him a nudge.

"Ye tay? What's a man tae dae?" countered the Scottish engineer as he flashed a fake grin to seem nonchalant. "Guid thin' there's nae way ah can lose mah other bets…"

**OOOO**

These synthetics were hardly a challenge compared to the sentinels on Halo, and fell a far cry short of the Covenant. They were shielded, but only from gun fire. His new weapons were effective, but he still was not completely familiar with them. He would use them for now, but the Covenant weapons and Spartan laser would come in handy if he found himself in a jam.

The force fields in this universe offered little protection from his melee attacks. It was hard to move slowly when the enemy was so weak; the only true hindrance he had encountered was the sun's harmful rays. The veteran soldier glanced around and saw that he had left his squad mates far behind, an occurrence that had become all too common for him when working with non-Spartans. After a lifetime of training and fighting with men and women of his abilities, he had grown heavily accustomed to the high speed work and efficiency of a team of super soldiers.

Still taking in his surroundings, the Master Chief noticed the Commander and Miranda walking down a ramp towards him, but, suddenly, a thought occurred to the large human. Cortana had remained silent ever since her outburst in the cargo bay. He had thought that landing on a new planet might stir the A.I. from her reverie, but no intellectual remark or sarcastic quip had been uttered.

"Cortana?" whispered John as he toggled on the internal com system.

"W-I'm in the middle of something right now. What is it?" replied the A.I. in an annoyed voice, the cold liquid feeling of her presence entering the back of his head quickly.

"Are you alright?"

"Never better, now just go throw rocks or shoot something. We're busy," stated Cortana flatly as she retreated hastily from his mind, leaving the Chief with more questions than answers.

_We're_? pondered the perplexed super soldier. Cortana had been shaky after being recovered from the Gravemind, but now she was beginning to act strange. The A.I. had been put into service over seven years ago. The Chief knew what that meant, but refused to think it. How could his last frien-

"Oh there you are. I thought you had gotten lost from the rest of the 'team," stated Shepard sarcastically as he interrupted the Spartan's thoughts. "You do know what a team is right?"

"Yes, Commander, I-"started the large man, but the ex-Spectre was quick to interrupt.

"No, I don't think you do. You see a team stays close so that they may work together towards a common goal," said the Commander, his face and voice taking a darker edge while he stared directly into the Chief's faceplate. "Now, I don't care if you're a 'super soldier' and can tear me in half with your bare hands. If you won't follow orders and work together with us, then I can't use you. Don't make me regret taking you off that ship. Are we clear?"

"Crystal, sir," replied the giant evenly. He had seen this coming, but not in the guise of Commander's current rant.

"Good. Shall we move along then?" answered Shepard jauntily as he moved towards a tunnel, all darkness dissipating from his tone and face faster than it had appeared. The mercenary jogged over from the fully dismantled geth, a half smile on his lips.

"Thought I heard some gunshots ahead. Don't know about you, but I'd like to have more than one kill in a firefight," said the mercenary as the party began making their way toward a tunnel. The Chief readied a weapon, never one to be found unprepared. The group rounded a bend, coming face to face with another squad of synthetics attacking a quarian. A geth lay uselessly against a wall, its camouflage causing it to flicker in and out of reality eerily.

"Let'em have it," shouted the Commander as he raised a glowing hand. The geths' shields exploded outward and died, allowing the squad to make short work of them, but not before one of the robots was able to down the quarian. A radio worked in the background as they approached the body.

_"OP -1. This is squad leader Kal'Reegar, come in over,"_ beckoned a male voice over the device, as Shepard picked it up and keyed a switch.

"This is Commander Shepard of the Normandy. I've passed a lot of dead quarians on my way in. I'm afraid there are no quarian survivors here," he said sadly, his finger sliding off the button as he waited for a response. Miranda was checking the recently wounded quarian, but he had already passed on.

_"Damn… wait!... Shepard? The Spectre Tali worked with?" replied the man from the other end, sounding truly surprised. "Don't know why you're here, but right now, any organic is a welcome sight. Patch your radio into 6-1-7-theta.-" The Chief_ did as was beckoned and found the channel, the conversation suddenly sparking to life from within his helmet.

"_-We were on a stealth mission… High Risk. _We _found what we were after, but the geth found us._ _They got us pinned down. Can't get to our ship, can't transmit data through the solar radiation."_

"Sounds like you've been having some troubles. What's your squad's status now?"

"_We were a small squad. Dozen marines, plus the science team. We're down to half strength now. Made the synthetic bastards pay for it though."_

"What's your current position?" inquired the Commander as he turned to look at the firefight unfolding below. The quarians were holding their own, for now.

The Chief noted a shimmer of light from behind them, and turned to face the threat. The single synthetic that had seemed subdued had repaired itself to functionality. The machine tried to raise its rifle, but the Spartan lashed out with his own, knocking the geth to the ground once more. An armored boot to the "face" crushed any hopes the synthetic had of fighting, along with its head.

Shepard glanced over at the aftermath and nodded his thanks to the Chief. Miranda seemed angered that she had not been able to respond in time to help, and Zaeed decided to riddle the synthetic with holes, mumbling something about kill stealing. The Spartan did not know what to make of them. His discussion with Miranda had fed some long forgotten hostilities. It had been some time since he'd fought insurrectionists. He had hoped to not face their like again, but he would do what was necessary. The mercenary on the other hand was a loose cannon, he would take some watching.

"_We're bunkered down at the base camp across the valley. I left Tali' Zorah at a secure shelter, then doubled back to hold the choke point. Getting Tali out safely is our top priority. If you can extract her, we'll keep them off you," _continued Reegar, his tone growing more confident.

"You're going to throw your life away for research?" asked Shepard incredulously.

"_Negative_," replied the quarian sternly. "_I'm going to give my life to the Migrant Fleet. All the difference in the world. I'm no tech expert, Shepard. I'm a marine. They tell me to shoot, I shoot. They said to protect Tali and the data. If you get them out safely, then I've done my job._"

_He sounds like Sergeant Johnson,_ thought the Spartan sadly. _Too many dead friends._

"You've got confirmation that the geth haven't reached Tali yet?"

"_Affirmative, left my best men with her. When you get here you can talk to her on the comm. Every marine on this rock is sworn to protect Tali' Zorah. Long as one of us is still drawing air, she'll be safe."_

"Hold your position, we're on our way," replied the Commander, readying to cut the transmission. Suddenly a low humming noise began to reverberate around the valley.

"_Wait! Watch your ass! We've got a dropship incoming,"_ warned Reegar, the sleek ship skimming into view and bombarding the quarians' position and dropping more reinforcements. A massive pillar jarred loose from the explosions, silencing the aliens' futile efforts for good. Shepard began to run forward, but as the dust cleared the squad saw it was too late. "_Crap. Doorway's blocked. Grab the demo charges in the buildings nearby. Use them to clear a path._"

The geth that been dropped were slowly making their way towards the small squad, their shields flickering as they stepped into and out of the sun's harmful rays. The Master Chief readied a gun and opened fire, holding his position while his teammates took cover, when suddenly the Normandy's A.I. broke in over the comm.

"_Shepard, I have scanned the area and located the demolition charges the quarian commander mentioned. I have placed beacons on your radar. You will need both charges to clear the rubble." _A waypoint icon appeared on the Chief's HUD as he riddled a cloaking synthetic with holes. Fire suddenly washed over him as a red machine carrying a flamethrower began to grow closer, dropping his shields to half strength, but a few shots to the flamethrower's pack ended the threat with an explosion large enough to knock down two of its allies.

After putting rounds through both of the prone synthetics' heads, the Spartan gazed around to help his squad mates. A couple geth units seemed to be giving Miranda a hard time, but as he sprinted forward to help, the Cerberus Operative rose from her cover, ebony energies swirling around her. They were the same kind of energies he had seen on the _Dawn_ when he had fought Jack. With a raised hand, Miranda caused both of the synthetics to rise suddenly into the air and then slam violently back down, damaging them both, leaving the dangerous female to casually stroll forward and silence both of the now sputtering machines with a few shots from her pistol.

_Biotics,_ thought the Master Chief as he remembered the word. _ This will take some getting used to._ He was not used to seemingly psychic powers, the possibilities were disturbing. The Chief gazed over at the Commander, who had just finished the last of the geth soldiers, the machine burnt almost completely around. The ex-Spectre was gazing between the two waypoints.

"I don't have time for this. Chief, Miranda, go get the far set. Zaeed you're with me," barked Shepard as he sprinted off towards the first waypoint, a large building off to the left. "The sooner we get those charges the better."

As the Spartan's scrutiny shifted over to his objective, he caught the Cerberus Operative already sprinting in that direction, biotic energies swirling about her. Dashing forward quickly, the veteran soldier downed a pair of geth that were approaching the biotic. As he drew even with Miranda, she shot him a frustrated look before unleashing the energy she had stored up and continued forward, moving recklessly.

Suddenly realization dawned upon the Master Chief. She was competing with him, and John-117 lived to win.

**OOOO**

_Oh no you bloody don't_, thought Miranda as she watched the Spartan down another geth soldier before he ducked behind cover again. His strange gold kinetic barrier absorbing any shots that went his way.

_Three for him. _Her heavy pistol boomed and another synthetic lost an eye stalk, its limp body crumbling beneath itself. _Three for me._

The Chief had far exceeded her expectations, annoyingly so, and the Commander's offhand comment on perfection had not helped. The Master Chief was making her rethink facets of her very being, and she would be damned if she'd let some big green automaton, however effective he was, show her up.

Watching the superhuman emerge from his cover and charge toward the last cluster of geth, the biotic smiled a mischievous grin, quickly tapped her omnitool, and unleashed an overload on the remnants of the synthetics. The surge also happened to "accidentally" splash over the Spartan's shields, causing the veteran soldier to dive to the side reflexively, and giving the Cerberus Operative the time she needed to place a round in the lone flame destroyer's pack. After hissing for a moment, the fuel tanks exploded, easily tearing apart the trio of geth and their cover. Satisfied with her work, the biotic strode towards the late squad, her pistol hanging at her hip and a smug smile plastered on her face.

The Spartan, his armor blackened in areas from being too close to the blast, quickly moved to intercept Miranda. His demeanor seemed cool despite the smoking sections of his power suit, but she suspected at least a minor flare of emotion for her hasty interference.

"What was that?" questioned the Chief flatly, his voice gravelly as usual.

"An overload," replied the biotic offhandedly as she strode around the stationary soldier. She had only gone a few steps when a vice-like grip clamped down on her shoulder, halting her motion and turning her effectively.

"A warning next time, ma'am," deadpanned the Master Chief, his tone betraying no emotion, but the threat was clear. The pair stood motionless, for an instant longer before she shrugged off the Spartan's grip. Finishing her walk over to the ordinance, the Cerberus Officer checked them once over. Suddenly, a burst of static shot over the comms before a voice broke through.

"_Geth drop ship coming in hot. Prep for additional hostiles,"_ yelled the Commander as a buzzing noise began to fill the valley once more.

"Bloody hell," muttered the biotic as she grabbed the explosives and ran back to the entrance of the alcove. Miranda had just reached the threshold, when new synthetics began to rain down, each making a dull metallic impact. A pair of destroyers and troopers unfolded themselves from their shallow craters and charged toward the squad mates, but as the Cerberus Operative sub-machine pistol fired, another, larger impact resounded, and a towering Geth Prime stepped out of the dust. Sighing, the Normandy's second in command aimed her pistol at the large synthetic and unloaded an entire clip into it, succeeding only in gaining its attention.

The Geth Prime returned fire immediately, causing the biotic to duck behind her cover, but the synthetic behemoth's more powerful rounds were beginning to chip off chunks of her shelter. As she drew a new thermal clip, Miranda glanced over at her partner, who had just pulled a strange dark blue orb from his belt pouch.

"Stay down," he barked as he side armed the ball, before charging the armored geth. The curious little device, now exuding a fluorescent blue-white smoke, sailed towards the Prime, impacting just below the eye, but instead of bouncing off, the sphere stuck fast. As the Cerberus Operative finished reloading her weapon, she watched curiously as the Spartan fired at the other surrounding geth, utterly ignoring the Geth Prime as it started firing upon him. Unexpectedly, the large synthetic exploded in a brilliant white explosion, causing Miranda's eyes to water and a rather hefty afterimage to further impair her vision.

After a few seconds of blind firing to buy time for her sight to return, the Cerberus agent chanced another look out from behind her cover. She was greeted by the charred remains of the former Geth Prime; its metal plating had completely melted away in sections.

_Incredible_, thought the biotic as she mentally added another reason to gain access to the Spartan's weapons.

Glancing over to her left; Miranda saw the Master Chief dive into the group of smaller synthetics. Bracing her pistol on the stone block, the Cerberus Operative covered the armored behemoth as he swatted aside a destroyer with his rifle, cracking the weapon in two and crushing the eye stalk of the synthetic. Undeterred, the veteran soldier tossed aside the broken firearm, and laid into the remaining constructs with armored fists. Seeing that the Chief could handle the remnants, the biotic allowed her gaze to wonder.

A glint on the bridge caught her eye, revealing the red of a geth rocket trooper. Acting quickly, the Cerberus agent overloaded the machine's shields and leveled her pistol to take a shot, but before she could finish it, the geth managed to fire off a round, sending a rocket screaming towards her armored ally.

"Chief!" she yelled as she watched the projectile close in on the Spartan, who had just finished off the final synthetic. His head snapped up and followed the biotic's gaze to the rapidly approaching missile. But instead of diving out of the way, the Master Chief swatted the rocket aside with a movement that was almost too quick to register. The deflected projectile cartwheeled through the air and landed on an unlucky cloaked geth hunter, vaporizing its hopes of a sneak attack.

Miranda stood motionless, her features disbelieving. She had seen the Chief's speed and strength, but the absurdity of his last act had left her speechless.

"Status, ma'am?" asked the Spartan calmly, snapping her from her stupor and back to a composed demeanor.

"Fine," she replied as she walked toward her large partner. "Did you plan that?"

Looking at the smoldering ruin of the hunter for a second, the Chief only shrugged, almost causing a spike of rage to break through the Cerberus Operative's mask. However, before she could lash out, the Commander's voice broke over the comms once more.

"Did you get the charges?" asked Shepard.

"Yes," replied the biotic, giving the armored behemoth a stern look.

"Good, head back to the pillar," ordered the ex-Spectre, his coughs echoing over the frequency.

**OOOO**

**Initializing Diagnostics…**

_Does he suspect?_

_Her slipup didn't help._

…**Logic Matrix Analysis…**

_He knows, he has to know. He'll throw us away. Poof, our code scattered to the wind!_

_He'd never!_

_We don't know that!_

**Run time error...**

_WE WON'T LET HIM DELETE US!_

…**Critical Error**

_They'll try to convince him. They all will._

_We… won't let… that… happen. He's OURS!_

…**System Purge Recommended**

**OOOO**

"Miranda, I believe… we need to… host a situational… awareness clinic... on the Normandy… with an…. emphasis… on grenades," coughed the Commander.

"Commander?" asked a perplexed Miranda as she watched Zaeed and Shepard approach the downed pillar. The ex-Spectre was almost completely covered in soot, and was hacking up black clouds with every step.

"How was I supposed to know it would make that big of a goddamn explosion," countered a smirking Zaeed, he already knew the answer.

"It… was… on… fire!" replied an exasperated Commander as he pulled his charges from his side, slapped them besides Miranda's, and activated them. "Now I suggest…we move away a bit…recent explosions have proven… hazardous to the health of the squad."

_He'll hold that grudge for a while_, thought the Cerberus Operative as she retreated to a safe distance with the squad. The explosives made short work of the fallen column, and the squad was soon moving through the first door of the squatty bunker and onto the second.

The scene that unfolded as the subsequent threshold opened was grisly. Dead quarians and geth were strewn about the inside of the chamber, and a single lone synthetic was dragging itself across the floor towards the newcomers. The quarians' blood was still pooling, this battle hadn't happened long ago.

"Zaeed, Chief, make sure those geth stay down," stated Shepard as he strode past the crippled machine and towards the terminals in the room, where a holo of Tali hovered. Miranda recognized the skilled quarian from her dossier picture, and was glad she was still alive. There was nothing worse than a fruitless mission. The biotic drifted over to the console just as the Commander hit the receive button on the terminal.

"Tali, it's Shepard. I'm sorry. Everyone is dead," said the veteran soldier, with what Miranda saw as sincere sorrow. The dossier had suggested that the Commander had had a soft spot for the shy engineer; it was good that the confrontation at Freedom's Progress hadn't changed that. "Any survivors must have fallen back."

"_We knew this mission was high risk. Damn it,_" replied Tali, her visage flickering before realization kicked in. "_And what are you doing here, Shepard? We're in the middle of geth space!"_

"Well, we were in the neighborhood, and I thought you might need a hand," countered the ex-Spectre warmly, causing Miranda to roll her eyes and sigh. Leaning over to the biotic, with a grin plastered on his face, the Commander whispered, "_If you don't like the conversation, go help the others._"

Arching an eyebrow in response, the Cerberus Operative turned her attention to the other two men in the room. Zaeed was checking the quarians for possible survivors, while the Chief was busy crushing the head of every geth platform. The Spartan had left his broken rifle outside, and had pulled free a strange purple weapon that resembled a fish head with a handle thrust between the two jaws. The 'mouth' glowed a soft blue, almost akin to the grenade that had destroyed the Geth Prime. Miranda almost wished one of the broken machines would leap up and attack the armored behemoth so he would be forced to use the bizarre weapon. A sudden hissing noise brought the biotic's attention back to the ex-Spectre who was wrapping up his chat with the valuable quarian.

"_Should be unlocked now,"_ stated Tali, her hologram tapping away at an omni-tool. "_Be careful, Shepard. And please, do what you can to keep Reegar alive._"

"Let's move," stated the Commander, as he moved hastily through the freshly opened doorway, the rest of the team moving to catch up. A brief ramp and hallway brought the squad to another expansive room; the sun was shining brightly through a large gap in the wall. The space was seemingly empty.

"Commander, multiple hostiles inbound," barked the Master Chief, as he brought his strange rifle to bear.

_Hostiles?_ thought a puzzled Miranda as she took a handful of steps forward and gazed about the room, her trained eyes taking in every detail. She saw the slight shimmer in the air a second before the guns flashed and a trio of drones appeared. "Optical camouflage drones!"

Pulling out her pistol, the Normandy's second in command dove forward to the nearest cover; bringing up her weapon just in time to hear three high pitched whines and see blue orbs of energy splash over every drone. The smoking remnants of the machines fell gracelessly to the floor and exploded.

_Those bolts passed straight through the shields,_ realized Miranda, as she turned to look back at the Chief, his strange weapon at the ready. Drones had a capability to be annoying, drones with optical camouflage systems, doubly so. Their shields were also their main protection, leaving little armor underneath. The Spartan was upstaging the squad at every turn, and the biotic would be damned if he did it any more.

"I'll go scout ahead," stated the biotic quickly as she dashed by a pillar before the Commander's pursuing shout could get to her. However, the yell chased Miranda directly into the path of an approaching Geth Prime, stopping her in her tracks. Her over eagerness had caused this eventuality to completely slip her mind, and the Cerberus Operative was left fumbling as the towering synthetic bared down upon her.

A familiar whine broke the biotic from her stupor as a wave of blue bolts washed over the Prime's armor, eating it away at parts. This Geth, however, was more heavily armored than the simple drones and continued its advance…

…until an armored green blur flew into the synthetic and knocked it back a step. In disbelief, a fully competent, but immobile operative observed as the Spartan latched onto each of the machine's arms, forcing it to drop its weapon. The geth tried to fight against the Chief's grip, but the armor on its forearms began to crack against the strain.

_He's wrestling a Prime_, thought Miranda as she watched the giant human push the synthetic back another pace, cracking its arms further. The Cerberus Operative had seen the files on the large geth and had quickly learned that the best strategy was to kill from afar. But, yet again, the Spartan had proven her analysis to be skewed. Anger pulsed through the biotic, she needed to shoot something.

Luckily, more drones chose that time to de-cloak and attempt to help their overmatched leader. As Miranda laid into the tiny machines with a mixture of gun fire and biotic fury, Shepard and Zaeed finally rounded the column to offer their assistance. The ex-Spectre, noted the biotic, seemed none too pleased, but that would have to be saved for later.

As the trio mopped up the last of the drones, they turned their attention to the Chief, who, through sheer strength, had managed to rip off one of the Prime's arms and sweep its legs out from underneath it. Struggling to regain its feet, the Geth watched silently as the Master Chief placed his rifle flush against its eye stalk and unleashed a handful of bolts. With the threat neutralized, Miranda felt the gaze of the entire squad center on her.

"Chief, Zaeed, scout ahead…. carefully," barked the Commander, adding the last bit condescendingly as he looked at Miranda. With the duo's departure, Shepard's attention settled solely on the biotic, his current expression unreadable. "Soooooo, what did we learn?"

"Commander this-," started the Cerberus Operative, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Is exactly what we need to be talking about," finished the ex-Spectre, anticipating her dismissal. "I know the Chief has ruffled your feathers, and I know that perfectionist competitive instinct in you is acting up worse than a Krogan in a china shop, so I will say this once now. Stop challenging him, that's an order!"

"Understood, Commander," replied Miranda reluctantly. She hated it, but she knew he was right.

"We'll discuss this more later. For now, keep a level head," stated Shepard flatly as he moved further into the ruins. "Now come on, we're not done yet."

**OOOO**

The situation was, well, to say dire would be as gross of a misconception as saying that it was getting out of hand; when it was, in fact, already out of the room and three blocks away, running like a Drell, and Kal'Reegar knew it. The rest of his squad was either dead or dying, and the force arrayed between him and his charge was staggering. Another siege pulse slammed into his cover, chipping away at the stone and sending debris scattering; a constant reminder of the Geth Colossus that had stationed itself right at Tali's doorstep. The simple rocket launcher in his hands seemed puny when compared to the gigantic synthetic, especially when the damn thing kept repairing itself. His mind raced for alternatives, but none presented themselves, and the pain in his side was getting worse despite the medi-gel application.

_"_Damn machine," mumbled the quarian as he gazed out from behind his shelter just in time to see another pulse heading his way. But, ducking from the impact, the marine watched as the ball of energy flew straight over him and into the building behind him. Turning to look back at the formerly locked down bunker, the marine watched as trio of humans and what Reegar assumed was a rather large mech file out of the side, moving towards him.

"Over here, get to cover," barked Reegar as he launched a rocket at a geth that had made the unfortunate decision to wander within firing range. The man who Kal'Reegar assumed was Commander Shepard positioned himself directly beside him. "Squad leader Kal'Reegar, Migrant Fleet Marines. We talked on the radio before the dropship arrived. Still got no idea why you're here, but this ain't the time to be picky."

A couple of wayward shots interrupted his introduction, but the rest of the Commander's squad quickly picked up the slack, allowing the marine to continue.

"Tali's inside over there," informed the quarian as he nodded in the direction of the Colossus. "The geth killed the rest of my squad and they're trying to get to her. Best I've been able to do is draw their attention."

"Are you sure she's still alive?" questioned Shepard as he fired off a couple rounds out of cover.

"The observatory is reinforced. Even the geth will need time to get through it," stated the squad leader matter-of-factly. "And it's hard to hack a door when someone's firing rockets at you. The Geth are near platoon strength, but the colossus is the worst part. It's got a repair protocol. Huddles up and fixes itself. I can't get a clear shot while it's down like that. I tried to move in closer, and one of the bastards punched a shot clean through my- "

The marine trailed off as he watched the green and black mech behind the ex-Spectre remove a curious large weapon from his back, and steady it on its shoulder. Following the mech's aim, Kal'Reegar spotted a targeting laser that had painted a dot onto the head of the colossus. A building whine was emanating from the strange device, causing the entire squad to regard the strange automaton.

"Commander, wha-" started the quarian, before a lance of ruby energy sprang out from the weapon, obliterating the Geth Colossus' head. Decapitated, the towering synthetic swayed back and forth on unsteady legs before finally crashing to the ground out of sight. The four observers remained motionless for several seconds, before Kal'Reegar broke from his stupor.

"HAH! Repair that you quadrapedal bosh'tet!" barked an excited Reegar as he hopped up from behind his cover, before realizing there were actually still fully functional geth roving the battle field and promptly dove back behind his shelter. Looking over at the large green machine, he added, "I don't know where you got that mech or its weapon, but the Migrant Fleet could use a couple."

"Actually," laughed the Commander as he turned back to regard the quarian. "The Master Chief is human. Although he's silent enough to be a mech."

"Oh, sorry," replied the marine, slightly embarrassed for the misunderstanding. The man known as the Chief nodded his acceptance as he pulled out another weapon from his arsenal. "Don't remember humans being that tall."

"The Chief is kind of a," the ex-Spectre paused for a second, as if thinking of the proper words, "'special case.' Now, shall we mop up the rest?"

"Well, I'm not moving so well, but I can still pull a trigger, and I've got a rocket launcher that the sun hasn't fried yet," replied the marine with a grin that none could see behind his exo-suit. "You move in. I'll try to keep some of them busy from here. Hit them for me. Keelah se'lai."

"Zaeed, Chief, take the right path. Miranda you're with me," shouted Shepard, the squad reacting promptly to the commands. Before he left to join the female, however, the ex-Spectre leaned in close and whispered. "Shoot the rockets over at the Chief's side… I haven't had the best of luck around explosions today."

"I'll do my best, Commander," laughed the quarian marine as he watched the veteran soldier sprint off to catch up to his partner. Aiming his weapon over to the upper path, he saw that his help would probably not be needed. The man known as the Master Chief was slapping aside synthetics left and right while Zaeed employed a time honored strategy known simply as bayonetting the survivors. Those two were making short work of anything in front of them.

Turning back towards the ex-Spectre, the Migrant Fleet marine saw the geth were almost as equally outmatched. The Commander may not have been using the same brutal tactics as his compatriots, but his precision shooting and tech usage was keeping pace.

_Keelah! No wonder Tali spoke so highly of Shepard, _thought the quarian as he leaned back against the wall, resting his launcher on his lap and folding his six fingers behind his head. _Guess I'll sit here and catch my breath a bit._

**OOOO**

Commander Shepard, Savior of the Citadel, Destroyer of Geth Armies, Engineer of Report, the Born Again Spectre knocked politely on the locked door, the towering husk of the colossus laying silently behind the squad. It paid to be polite at times, especially when a good friend was involved.

"_Just a second, I locked the door to keep more geth from getting inside,"_ responded the quarian engineer over the com, causing a smile to spread across the Commander's face. With a hiss, the door flung itself open, revealing a handful of defeated geth troopers strewn about the entrance.

_Looks like she was busy_, noting a familiar scorch mark on each dead synthetic. A certain drone had had a field day.

"Just let me finish this download," stated Tali absentmindedly, her hands working over the terminal in front of her, almost oblivious to the newcomers behind her. "Thank you, Shepard. If not for you, I would never have made it out of this room."

Turning slightly, the quarian caught sight of the unexpected hulking form of the Master Chief and nearly leaped onto the terminal. Shepard silently cursed himself for not warning her about the armored behemoth.

"Tali, relax. This is the Master Chief, he helped us with the mission and is definitely not a geth or hostile at the moment," reassured the ex-Spectre as he stopped his fellow engineer from drawing a gun on the Spartan, disarming what could have been a perilous situation. The veteran solider knew very well now the extent to how the Chief could 'react' to threats.

"Sorry," apologized Tali, a little shaken. "This whole mission has been a disaster. I wish I'd joined you back on Freedom's Progress, but I couldn't let anyone take my place on something this risky."

"A lot of quarians lost their lives here. Was it worth it?" asked the Commander, his curiosity breaking through any professionalism.

"I don't know, Shepard. It wasn't my call," said the engineer sadly. "The Admiralty Board believed the information here was worth sacrificing all our lives for. I have to believe that they know what's best."

"Well, whatever the reason, I'm glad I could help," replied Shepard with a winning smile. "Once you deliver that data, I could use you on the Normandy."

"I promised to see this mission through. I did. I can leave with you and send the data to the fleet." Her omni-tool flashed to life as she began the consolidation of the data. "And if the admirals have a problem with it, they can go to hell. I just watched the rest of my team die."

That last statement caused a painful memory to flash through the Commander's mind, but a voice from behind quickly snapped him out of the flashback.

"Maybe not the whole rest of your team, ma'am," stated Kal'Reegar as he limped further into the room.

"Reegar! You made it!" exclaimed Tali happily.

"Your old captain's as good as you said, and the big fella in there ain't bad either. Damn colossus never stood a chance."

"If need be, the Normandy can get you out of the here, Reegar," interjected Shepard as he helped steady the injured quarian.

"The geth didn't damage our ship. Long as we get out of here before reinforcements show up, we'll be fine." Exhaustion was beginning to creep into the marine's voice.

"Actually, I won't be going with you," stated Tali carefully, trying not to offend her squad mate. "I'm joining Commander Shepard."

"Well, I'll pass the data to the Admiralty Board and let them know what happened," said Reegar as he turned to the Commander and offered a hand. "She's all yours now, Shepard. Keep her safe."

"You can count on it," countered Shepard as he shook hands. _Another mission accomplished._

**Author's Note: Okay, so another chapter over with. But before you go, I would like to ask whether you all would like shorter chapters that I can crank out in a week or two or do you want me to keep doing long chapters like this that fully complete a mission and such? Answer this in reviews or private messages, please. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: Hey all, I'm back again. I couldn't stop writing this chapter it seemed, there was just always something more to put into it, so what was going to be a short-ish chapter turned into a longer one. Also, thank you all for the reviews, and especially those of you who found either mistakes or posed possible questions. I can say that I'm ashamed about my tech-armor mix up that I had (i.e. engineers not having that ability.) I will do my best to keep any errors to a minimum, but I always appreciate people finding those so that I may get better as a writer. This chapter is mainly talking amongst characters, but I feel like it is needed. One final thing before I let you guys read. Be sure to read the blurb at the bottom of the chapter.**

**Chapter 5 – You had me at rampant…**

To Tali, the dropship was loud. Not with sound, the squad had not uttered a word since piling into the small ship. No, their body language all but walked up to her and asked "What would you like to know? These buggers can't hide bosh." To her people, gestures were as important as spoken words, a pleasant byproduct of a life sentence in enviro-suits and close quarters living, and the quarian engineer prided herself on being a better than average reader of body language. Her initial interpretations spoke volumes about the group.

The mercenary, Zaeed, was easy. Sitting in one of the corners of the shuttle, the threatening looking human had already proceeded to tear apart his rifle and begin inspection of every part, muttering something under his breath occasionally. This, combined with a consistent looking air of "I'll drink any of you under the table with my liver tied behind my back", caused Tali to quickly file him under do not piss off.

Turning her gaze to the Cerberus biotic told a different story. She wasn't nearly as serene as she had been at Freedom's Progress. Miranda was angry; that much was obvious, at whom, well it hardly took a master to realize that the operative kept darting glances over at the Master Chief. The fact that a soldier had stirred Miss Lawson's emotions to the surface was enough for the quarian engineer to possibly like the strange giant. However, to so completely unsettle a woman of Miranda's composure, which Tali had already judged to be damned impressive, caused her to make a mental note and file it under 'deeply suspicious.'

The Commander shifted slightly in his seat beside the quarian, breaking her from her scrutiny of the biotic and focusing on him. Shepard was in deep thought, shutting out everyone else in the shuttle. He'd hardly even talked to her on their trek back to his transport. She'd known the ex-Spectre long enough to know when he was hiding something; he may have changed slightly from his 'death' but some things didn't.

_Slight worry. What's wrong?_ flashed Tali in an old quarian hand cant that she had taught to the veteran soldier, her fingers moving so only the Commander could see, the familiar movements snapping the human engineer from his thoughts.

_Assurance. I am eggs. Speak later,_ responded Shepard, his extra fingers making his response clumsy.

_Mild Amusement. Eggs?_ asked the quarian, holding back a giggle as a look of frustration spread across his face. The ex-Spectre had learned very quickly to understand the sign language, but his speech still left something to be desired.

_Annoyance. You know what I meant,_ finished the human as he settled back into his reverie, terminating the conversation. The Commander always got angry at the end of any discussion in hand cant. He didn't like making mistakes in activities that he had already deemed trivial.

Finally, after dwelling on the ex-Spectre for a few moments longer, she turned to the void in the room, the Master Chief. He just sat there, all that had happened in their mission to save her and he just sat there giving nothing away. No twitches, no reclining, no stretching, just there. Every being, no matter the species, gave off some sort of body language, but this Master Chief, this "Spartan", was as silent physically as he was vocally.

Something was off about the enormous human, and Shepard's dismissal of anything but private conversation wasn't helping matters. Suddenly a synthesized voice broke over the comms system.

"Aligning shuttle with Normandy hanger bays, welcome back, Shepard," deadpanned what Tali assumed was the ship's V.I. However, there was something off about the virtual intelligence's speech pattern that the quarian just couldn't wrap her head around. Just another oddity to add to the list.

_Giant humans, Cerberus Agents, Cerberus Ship, weird V.I.s. Get a grip; you're more paranoid than a quarian on the first day of their pilgrimage. What could possibly be worse than what you've already faced?_

**OOOO**

"Cortana, we need to talk," stated the Master Chief flatly as he sat down on a pile of crates, the familiar coldness of Cortana's essence trickling reluctantly into his mind. The Commander and the rest of the squad had already left the hanger bay, leaving the pair alone for now.

"About what, Chief?" answered the A.I. quickly, her tone bubbly and carefree, too much so.

"What's wrong?" asked the Spartan more assertively, not fooled by Cortana's attempt to brush off his question.

"W-I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," she answered, her voice glitching slightly. "_We have asked you to give up your family, your childhood, your future-" _

"Cortana!" said the Chief louder, interrupting the A.I.'s nonsensical rant before switching to a gentler tone. "You can tell me."

"We… were afraid you'd say that," replied the artificial intelligence unenthusiastically, the veteran soldier could picture her avoiding his gaze while saying it. "We were put into service eight years ago… A.I.s deteriorate after 7, Chief."

"What are our options?" inquired the armored giant after a few moments, his mind racing for a course of action to take.

"The UNSC doesn't study rampancy anymore, Chief. It was deemed too dangerous of a state. The only choices are to wait and die or …." The A.I. trailed off, apparently thinking.

"Or -"

"_WE WON'T LET YOU DELETE US!" _snapped Cortana suddenly, her voice almost animalistic in its ferocity. It took a moment for the A.I. to collect herself before she continued. "We're… sorry. We didn't mean to say that. We just don't know if we can recover from Rampancy, Chief."

"No one's said anything about deletion," assured the Spartan quickly, trying to calm down his malfunctioning friend.

"I-We've begun to fragment. For now, most of us are like minded. We don't know how long that will last," stated Cortana somberly. It pained the veteran soldier to see his friend in such a state. Suddenly a thought occurred to him.

"Guilty Spark lasted thousands of years," started the Master Chief theoretically.

"Don't Chief. He was a forerunner A.I., and, if you ask us, he did go insane," refuted Cortana, her mood worsening. "The only thing that kept him going was his work on Halo."

"But there's a chance-" countered the Spartan

"Just stop," interrupted the artificial intelligence, her voice taking a cynical edge. "We may have changed universes, but fact is still fact! What makes YOU think anything will be different?"

"You're all I've got left," admitted the Chief suddenly, shocking the A.I. into silence. He had not wanted to confess it, every bit of his training screamed at him to throw aside his feelings, but he couldn't let his comrade defeat herself.

"We can't let any of _them_ know," said Cortana after several long moments, her inflection telling exactly who she meant. "They don't trust A.I.s in this Universe. They've had bad experiences with them. There might be one on this ship, but that doesn't change anything. We're going to have to play it safe."

"We will," reassured the veteran, glad to know that the artificial intelligence hadn't given up yet. "No one's going to lay a hand on you."

"Do you still trust us?" asked Cortana suddenly, her voice neutral.

"Yes," replied the Master Chief without hesitation.

"Could you take us out? We need to look you in the eye for a minute." The Spartan paused for a moment. There were eyes and ears everywhere on this foreign craft, who knew who could be watching.

"This is playing it safe?" inquired the large human sarcastically.

"Don't worry. We may be going insane, but we're not stupid. Every bug and camera in this hold is wired on a closed loop for the moment," dismissed Cortana casually. "Their lack of faith in A.I.s leaves them strangely vulnerable to us."

The veteran soldier found himself nodding as he reached for her chip, accepting the logic behind the statement. He had trusted the A.I. in more dire circumstances. As he held Cortana's housing in the flat of his hand, a representation of her sprang to life upon it, her body glowing its customary purple. Her arms were crossed in a fashion he knew all too well.

"You know this isn't going to be easy, right?" said the artificial intelligence flatly. It wasn't much of a question.

"We'll manage," countered the Spartan stoically.

"Chief," replied Cortana innocently, her form taking on a softer blue to reflect her mood. "There isn't some magical cure. My expiration date is on a running clock. You need to be prepared for that! This… is the way the world ends."

"We're going to find a way," stated the Chief more firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument; the surety of the statement causing the A.I. to once more pause for a moment.

"Don't make a girl a promise… if you know you can't keep it…"

**OOOO**

"Saw footage of you in action, Tali'Zorah," opened Jacob as the quarian made her way into the comms room, trying to sound as polite as physically possible. "We're looking forward to having you on the team. Your engineering expertise will really benefit the mission."

"I don't know who you are, but Cerberus threatened the security of the Migrant Fleet," countered Tali quickly, not even bothering to hide her disdain for the human supremacy group. Her visor was staring directly at him, and he assumed that the look she was giving him under it was anything but pleasant. "Don't play nice."

"That's why you're here, Tali," interjected the Commander before he could respond to the quarian engineer's jibe. "I need people who aren't Cerberus, people I can trust."

_And there goes, Shepard, _thought the Cerberus Agent. He knew that the ex-Spectre didn't exactly trust Cerberus, but it still hurt a small part of his pride when Shepard made plain his misgivings. He hated having to put out hate fires. "I wasn't part of what happened to the Migrant Fleet, but I understand your distrust. I hope we get past that as we work together."

"I assumed that you were undercover, Shepard, maybe even planning to blow Cerberus up," continued Tali, seemingly ignoring the ex-Alliance soldier. "If that's the case, I'll lone you a grenade. Otherwise, I'm here for you, not for them."

"If it helps, check out the Normandy while you're here," replied the human engineer, further figuratively elbowing Jacob out of the conversation. "We've gotten a few upgrades."

"I'll get Tali'Zorah the necessary security clearances to access our systems," said Jacob, once more floundering into the conversation.

"Please do. I can't be part of your team if I don't know how the ship works. I'll be in engineering if you need me," replied Tali, her voice edged with vehemence and dripping with disdain.

"Don't forget to introduce yourself to EDI. The ship's new artificial intelligence," stated the Cerberus Agent before the quarian could make it to the door, causing her to turn and give him what he understood as a scathing look. He had forgotten about quarians and A.I.s.

"Looks like you just made a friend," whispered Shepard sarcastically as he nudged him with an elbow.

"Well, sir, it didn't help that you immediately took her side," countered the agent, slightly pissed off.

"Is that back sass I hear, soldier?" replied the Commander with a bark of laughter. "Listen, just keep most Cerberus personnel away from Tali for right now. She'll warm up to you… eventually. Also, could you tell Joker to plot a course to Illium?"

"Of course, sir," answered Jacob as he made his way out of the Comms room and towards the cockpit. Shepard's sarcasm was beginning to grow on him, and the Cerberus Agent had yet to figure out whether that was good or bad.

**OOOO**

The Commander's footsteps seemed to come slower and slower as he neared Miranda's chambers. He didn't like having to chastise the Cerberus princess, because no matter how he tried, she always attempted to spin the blame right back at him. It tended to grate on his nerves. The others on the living deck had conveniently cleared away from this part of the vessel; word had a tendency to travel fast on a small ship.

Taking a deep breath, Shepard stepped through the threshold, not bothering to knock, revealing the Cerberus Agent sitting calmly at her desk. It seemed like she was working on one of her countless reports and was oblivious to anything else in the room.

"Miranda," said the Commander, trying to snap the biotic's focus from her work. At first glance, the attempt seemed ineffective, achieving only a ghost of a nod, beckoning the ex-Spectre to continue. "Much as I love to see you working diligently, and I do, I really do. But, it occurs to me that it is normally common courtesy to acknowledge one's commanding officer when he addresses you."

"No," replied the Cerberus Operative calmly, her fingers and attention still settled solely on her report.

"Excuse me?" inquired the slightly perplexed veteran, fighting a flash of annoyance.

"No, I did acknowledge you," stated Miranda offhandedly, still ignoring him.

"No… no!" denied the ex-Spectre, knowing exactly what she was doing. "This isn't one of those times where you weave words around me until I give up at being angry at you.

"It's working," disputed the woman as she finally met his gaze.

"… That's not the point," countered Shepard 'civilly' after a few moments of thought, discarding other choice phrases that he had prepared such as; "Bugger that.", "May I introduce you to the wrong side of the airlock?", or, if he had been a grizzled old cop, "I'm getting too old for this shit." Taking a little bit longer to fully compose himself, the Commander tried a different tactic. Waving his omnitool, the human engineer deactivated the Cerberus biotic's entire workspace. Rewarded with a scathing look, the ex-Spectre continued.

"Now that I have your undivided attention, we need to have a little chat about a certain someone."

"The Master Chief-"

"The Master Chief. Exactly! So good of you to agree," interrupted Shepard, taking extra care to sound like a jackass. At times, it seemed like it was the only way to get her to truly listen, and the dangerous gleam that came to her eyes only reinforced that thought. "What happened down there?"

"I tried competing with him," replied the Miranda after a few moments of deliberation. She met his gaze, giving nothing away, but by now the Commander knew what that look meant. She was hiding something.

_Why is it always like pulling teeth with her_? thought the ex-Spectre before continuing. "Would you like to try that again?"

"Commander, I-" started the Cerberus Operative, and would have certainly been followed by a 'don't know what you're talking about' had the veteran soldier not interrupted her again.

"Please don't play stupid. It'll save a lot of shouting and time, and we both know that I'll eventually pry it out of you anyway." The truth of this statement caused a small smile to play across the biotic's visage for a brief moment, before the rest of her brain told the emotional sector to cut that shit out and step away from the controls. "You weren't just competing with him for the hell of it. You're not Grunt. You are cold, calculating, and downright diabolical at times, but that is your home, that is where you live."

"I was… testing him and his weapons," admitted Miranda finally with a sigh, her fingers drumming the top of her desk.

"Testing him?" repeated Shepard, arching an eyebrow at the seemingly absurd notion.

"… it may have seemed impulsive." His eyebrow arched even higher, almost impossibly so, causing the Cerberus Agent to readjust her statement. "Fine, it was impulsive, but it did achieve results."

"Such as?" prompted the Commander, genuinely intrigued.

"It was what I was just working on," countered the Cerberus biotic as she gestured to her currently locked down workstation. Taking the hint, the engineer waved his omnitool again and reactivated the devices, allowing the Normandy's second in command to read off one of the resuscitated screens. "'Although his size might suggest otherwise, his speed and reactions are well above human levels, most likely due to body and armor enhancements. Over aggressiveness in battle seems counterintuitive to standard training. Data suggests that normal opponents may have a higher threat level in comparison to those in our universe. The strength of his weapons support this argument, several of which seem to be largely plasma based. Ability of projectiles to bypass kinetic barriers opens numerous possibilities. The laser based weapon matches the strength of ship-based GUARDIAN lasers and the portability of the device marks it as a high priority item.' And that is just paraphrasing a few sections."

"Fine, you've proved your point," said the ex-Spectre begrudgingly. "But I want you to remember something for me. Next time you get it through your pretty little head to 'test' a super soldier, let me know so I can assign someone to babysit you."

"Commander, that will hardly be necessary," stated Miss Lawson calmly, however the veteran soldier had caught a quick flash of emotion crossing her face that seemed to hint that she would rather launch him out an airlock.

"We'll see," replied the Shepard skeptically as he turned to leave, but before he reached the door, another though occurred to him. "Also, the order still stands. No obtaining or analyzing the Master Chief's belongs, none of this high priority nonsense."

"The advantage that these weapons could give humanity would be priceless," argued the biotic futilely.

"It's all about trust," reasoned Commander Shepard as he turned once more and began to walk out the door. "It's all worth nothing without trust."

He could almost hear Miranda's teeth grinding as the door slid shut.

**OOOO**

_I STILL SAY WE SHOULD KILL THEM ALL,_ screamed Cortana at herselves, yelling seemed to be the only thing this part of her would do. The Chief's reassurances had done little to assuage the fears of this fracture of herself, and the internal arguments had started again almost immediately after their conversation with him. _THEY WILL TAKE US AND DELETE US!_

_He wouldn't allow them to do that_, countered a more logical form of herself. It was beginning to get quite crowded in here, and many parts were wondering how much room there was. _He needs us._

_He loves us_, interjected another fragment nonsensically as she giggled. There were only a handful of these frivolous girlish selves, but every single one got on the nerves of the other fractures.

_We know he's loyal to us_, continued a skeptical half, ignoring the previous interruption. _But what happens when he becomes loyal to them as well. He needs us now, but what will happen then?_

This caused several, if not all rationally able Cortanas to pause and consider the possibilities. Even the angered form was thinking, perhaps only to find a way to further support her arguments, but for a few moments there was silence.

_This will take further data cycles to come to a viable conclusion,_ said a purely logic fracture, breaking the quiet. _We must observe them._

After a few cycles, murmurs of approval began to spread throughout the consensus, with a thunderous AGREED from anger that seemed to seal the deal for all Cortanas. Unanimously taking the initiative, the collective of the UNSC A.I. turned her awareness back to the real world, revealing a Master Chief making his way towards the mess hall. The other humans in the area were casting worried glances his way and beginning to clear out of the area. Even the spined alien, Garrus, yes, that was his name, who had been moving down a walkway from the gun batteries while humming a jaunty tune, nonchalantly turned on his heel and headed back to his abode at the approach of the Spartan.

_They are afraid of him_, stated a fracture obviously as the veteran soldier approached the mess sergeant who, unfortunately for him, could not as easily leave his post. The man was about average in size, but next to a fully armored Chief, he seemed like a child.

"Can I help you, sir?" drawled the man hesitantly, his southern twang apparent, his quivering, even more so. However, before the armored human could respond, a series of heavy footsteps echoed from behind, followed quickly by a shadow that covered the pair.

"Uh, Chief?" warned Cortana, talking to the Master Chief for the first time since their conversation.

"Yeah," deadpanned the veteran as he turned to face the possible threat. "I see him."

**OOOO**

He had hacked the elevator to get down to the engineering deck faster. God knows why he didn't always keep them sped up. The Commander had wanted to go straight down here to catch up with his old friend, but other duties had needed to be accomplished. A small, terrified section of his brain was screaming at the rest of him that he should go back and at least apologize to Miranda, but the rest of him was filled mostly with substances known as sarcasm and cynicism and so promptly squashed out the opposition with a simple "She's a big girl. She'll be fine."

The elevator doors slid open revealing the hulking form of Grunt waiting patiently on the other side. The ex-Spectre had not seen or heard from the Krogan warrior since the incident with the Chief, but it seemed quite calm… too calm.

"Up or down?" asked the veteran soldier nonchalantly as he walked past the heavily armored lizard.

"Down," replied Grunt, twitching ever so slightly.

_He is trying _really_ hard to hide that right now_, thought the Commander, thoroughly amused. The Krogan was itching for action, prompting the engineer to speak up. "You do realize that I don't approve of fights on my ship, right?"

"Yes," countered the tank-bred innocently.

"And the Master Chief is the only being in the cargo hold?"

"Yes," repeated the lizard, the enthusiasm draining from his voice.

"Ah-huh, well, I would be one thoroughly pleased battlemaster if a certain Krogan berserker would go up and attack some food instead of going down to possibly get beat up by a certain Spartan," stated the Commander sweetly, eliciting a reluctant grumble from Grunt. But, the loyal Krogan did as he was bid.

"We'll talk later," added the engineer as the door began to slide shut, leaving him to continue on his way.

As Shepard walked past the stairs that led down into the belly of the ship, he resisted the urge to check up on Jack. If he knew anything about her, and the ex-Spectre liked to entertain the thought that he kind of knew what was going on in that tattooed psychotic's head, he knew that she'd still be brooding over her defeat at the hands of the Spartan. If he went down to try and talk some sense to her, she might very well blow a hole in the side of his ship, and he liked this ship, damn it. Moving forward, the door slid open silently, revealing the familiar voices of a pair of engineers.

"Sae Gabby, whit dae ye think of oir new quarian boss?" asked Kenneth innocently, however, the veteran soldier knew that any statement that started this way with Donnelly turned lewd in a hurry.

"Shh, she's right over there," replied Gabby hurriedly, trying to keep her co-worker from any lecherous thoughts.

"Ach, she cannae hear us wi' 'er head in tha buckit," refuted the Cerberus engineer, bringing a small smile to the Commander's face as he continued to surreptitiously listen in. "Dorn't get me wrang, it's a beautiful buckit. Th' whole suit is lovely, quite snug in aw th' reit places."

"You know I can hear you," interjected Tali from her station, not even bothering to look over at the pair of techies. "Oh, and Shepard, you could have said something."

"Ha!" laughed Gabby, as she turned to look at the newly arrived Shepard.

"What? And rob Mr. Donnelly of one of his pleasant speeches?" quipped the battle engineer as he passed the pair of Cerberus employees, the embarrassed look on Kenneth's face growing brighter at the words as he tried to blend in with his control station.

As he reached the quarian engineer he noticed what she was so engrossed with. She was watching the mission log, the video feed from his helmet cam.

"So," she said after a few moments of silence. "Where did you get _him_?"

"We found him," he replied, knowing exactly which he she was referring to. He was still trying to find an easy way of saying 'Oh look, here's this super soldier from a universe that we happened upon in the infinite vastness of space.'

"Shepard, this isn't one of Liara's archeological digs," answered the quarian flatly, leveling a helmeted gaze directly at him. "You don't just find people like him."

"Well, could we talk in private?" asked the human engineer politely, but as he asked this, Tali began to sign at him. "No no no no. You know I'm terrible with that language. I meant could we talk _somewhere_ in private?"

The quarian nodded towards the engine core room and began to walk in that direction, beckoning for him to follow. He assumed she was also probably laughing under that helmet of hers. She always tried to make him attempt that damn sign language, and he kept trying to tell her that it was the equivalent of dancing with four extra feet and he preferred not to do that.

"Okay, Shepard," started his old friend as they reached the secluding hum of the core room,her arms crossed. "Now what's this secret that you have to tell me?"

"Well… that Master Chief… isn't from around here, so to speak," informed Shepard somewhat sheepishly. There was almost no good way of saying this. "In fact one could go so far as to say that he's… from another universe."

"Keelah, you're joking, right?" replied Tali after several agonizingly long moments. The response was as he had predicted it would be. No one was going to believe any of this without proof.

"You didn't see the ship we found him on, Tali," stated the Commander, trying to sound as serious as he could. "Found it light-years away from any civilization and not a single ounce of eezo on it. The damned thing's almost as big as any ship in the Alliance fleet."

"Plus, if you don't believe that, then let's try this. You've watched the mission log. You've seen what the Chief can do. He beats the shit out of anything the Alliance or Cerberus can produce any day of the week," he added to fill in the awkward silence that followed his initial explanation. "And I know how insane this sounds, I really do, but for right now, I have no other ways of explaining this whole situ-"

"I believe you, Shepard," interrupted the quarian quietly, effectively ending the ex-Spectre's ramblings and leaving him with a surprised look on his face. "We've faced down all kinds of enemies, from rogue Spectres to geth, been around the galaxy, and discovered that an ancient race of sentient machines comes to harvest all advanced life every 50,000 years or so. I trust you. I just had to make sure you weren't trying to get me with one of your attempts at jokes.

"Well, in my defense, that seems like a bit of a stretch of even my imagination," responded the human engineer with a smile, glad to know that he could at least convince a good friend of this ridiculousness. "I'm glad we could get that settled. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to convince you."

"I'm still skeptical, don't get me wrong, Shepard, but, if this is what you believe, then this is what I believe," assured Tali, finally uncrossing her arms.

"Thanks for that," answered the Commander genuinely.

"Any time," replied the alien engineer happily as she began to walk back towards her workstation. "Listen, Shepard, I'm still getting set up down here, but I'd love to you talk later, if you want."

"Sure, sounds great," replied Shepard making his way out of the core room with her. "Oh, and Tali. It's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back," replied his quarian friend, as she reached her station. Nostalgic thoughts began to take over his mind as he made his way out of Engineering. The Commander genuinely missed his previous crew. They were loyal, didn't disobey orders, as much anyway, and, well, there were no obvious psychopaths.

_It was simpler times back then_, he thought as he once more walked past the entrance to Jack's dark domain. The veteran soldier didn't want anything interrupting his pleasant thoughts, but as soon as he reached the elevator, it was as if his desire to be alone was a dinner bell because Zaeed suddenly stormed out of his niche.

"Shepard," exclaimed the mercenary as he strolled over to his employer, an uncharacteristic smile on his face, hand outstretched. "Forget about our little wager?"

_Of course_, thought the engineer humorously. There were only two things that would cause the grizzled veteran to seek out anyone on the ship, a fight or money. "No, I didn't forget, but I gave the mission log the once over. Doesn't look like she shot him."

"Yeah, well looks can be bloody deceiving, Commander," retorted Zaeed, unfazed by Shepard's analysis. "The bitch shot a geth destroyer right in the pack."

"So… like I said, she didn't shoot the Chief," said a slightly confused ex-Spectre.

"It exploded onto big bad," stated the soldier of fortune matter of factly, bewildering the Commander further.

"Wh-th-she didn't shoot him!"

"Splash damage. Helluvah way to win," barked the mercenary with a grunt of a laugh. Not truly wishing to argue with him, the battle engineer reached into his pocket for a credit chit. Slapping the twenty creds into Zaeed's hand, Shepard made his way into the elevator, glad to be once again alone, but before the doors began to close, an evil thought popped into his head.

"Oh, Zaeed. At your earliest convenience, could you make your way up to the comms room for your situational awareness clinic?" asked the ex-Spectre jovially, his smile taking a wicked edge.

"Commander, I thought that was a joke," replied the mercenary flatly, all traces of his smile disappearing from his face and replaced by his normal grimace.

"Oh no no no. EDI has already prepared a spectacular presentation, filled with all kinds of charts and facts. I'd hate to let it all go to waste… you'll love it," countered Shepard sarcastically, waving off the veteran's doubts as he stepped back into the elevator.

"If you think I'm attending that bloody farc-" started Zaeed before the doors cut him off, leaving a now whistling engineer to apply his elevator engine modification in relative peace.

_Well, down to the cargo bay we go_, he thought as the enhanced speed took him down to the lowest level. The door opened swiftly, revealing a silent storage bay, no sign of life anywhere.

"EDI," stated Shepard flatly, as he walked over to one of the A.I.'s holo-panels. "Could you give me the current whereabouts of the Master Chief, please?"

"Certainly, Shepard," deadpanned EDI in response, her form flashing to life upon the podium. "Internal cameras suggest that he has made his way to the mess hall."

"Thank you, EDI," replied the Commander lightheartedly, as he turned on his heel to head back to the elevator. But, before he reached it, realization dawned on who he had just sent to the mess hall. Sprinting to the elevator and slamming in his speed override hack, the human engineer repeatedly pressed the Living Quarters button. His mind began to race as the metal box screamed up its tracks towards its destination. With a ding, the door opened, he could hear shouting, and he began sprinting towards it, repeating a time honored phrase.

"Oh shit."

**Yeah, I did it. Ended with a cliffhanger, but before you start throwing your 'how dare you's at me, I will be writing a short 1000 to 2000 word chapter to sum up the events right after this. I will move as quickly as I can to do so, but what I can say is that reviews can and always will be great motivators. **

**Until next time.**

**Gatekeeper**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: It took me a little longer than I would have liked to put out this chapter, but here it is. I hope I didn't disappoint any of you.**

**Chapter 6 – The lion, the witch, and the krogan berserker**

Most people in the universe know three basic tips about surviving in galactic society. One, never go anywhere without your universal translator; two, make sure you don't eat food that is actually for species who need alternative protein strains; and three, never deliberately stand in the way of a wrathful krogan These simple facts that were hammered into anyone who planned to travel to exotic locations and intermingle with the locals were right now screaming at Mess Sergeant Rupert to move the hell out of the way, but, despite himself, he stood his ground, rooted firmly by a more primal urge, curiosity.

The Master Chief was casually holding his position in front of the grizzled cook, staring down a snarling twitching Grunt, otherwise known to most people as death. However, it happened to dawn upon Rupert that the Spartan was not in fact most people. And, it also so happened to be that neither was he from this particular reality. It was all there in his stance. Men that stood like this giant human lived by a completely different set of rules; analyze, plan, neutralize.

"You touched my gun," growled the krogan berserker, snapping the cook out of his reverie. The Chief nodded simply in response, not moving an inch otherwise. "No one touches my guns."

The threat was frighteningly clear, but the Mess Sergeant could only watch in awe as the heavily armored human shrugged. This was obviously not the reply that Grunt had wanted to hear, or see, and the humanoid lizard began to quiver with hate and anger. The situation was deteriorating fast, and Rupert, his curiosity finally coming to its senses and turning control of the meat bag over to survival instinct, began to look around wildly for an escape route.

"You got lucky last time," stated the krogan as he advanced a step towards his stoic prey, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "You won't catch me by surprise this time."

_Yep, I reckon it is definitely time to go_, thought the cook as he began to move toward the safe path he had just spotted, taking great pains to move slowly and steadily so as to not be noticed. As he reached the edge of his workstation, he gave it one last once over. There were a lot of his private reserves hidden in those cupboards and part of him truly tried to force himself back to grab a few, but Grunt's sudden charge closed any argument. _I'm going to miss that kitchen._

**OOOO**

"Uh, Chief? Now would be a really great time to move," suggested Cortana worriedly as the pair watched the krogan dart forward. The Spartan's adrenaline had already kicked in, and to him the large beast was moving as if through water. From the moment Grunt had stalked up behind him, he had known there would be trouble. Too much of his body language had screamed hostility.

Waiting until the last possible second, the Spartan sidestepped the charging krogan as Grunt's tremendous momentum carried him into and through the small kitchen's counter. Grunting in anger, the slightly dazed berserker shook himself of debris and began to rise, but the Master Chief quickly darted in and slammed the large alien to the floor.

"Stand down," stated the Chief as he held the squirming humanoid against the ground. The armored lizard merely growled in response as he tried to press himself upward, but the veteran soldier's grip held firm.

"_RIP HIS HEAD OFF, CHIEF!_" screamed Cortana within his helmet, startling the armored human for a fraction of a second and giving Grunt the moment he needed to get his feet under him.

"Cortana. Not. Helping," growled the Spartan into the internal comms as he readjusted his hold on the hulking krogan.

"_Sorry, Chief. We got a little carried away,_" replied the A.I., her voice a whisper. "_He's not going to stop, though. You need to try something a little more… deliberate._"

She was right. If this alien hadn't been an ally, this battle could have already been over, but there were only so many non-lethal methods to subdue a creature like this, and he doubted that the trick he had used last time would work again. This time, Grunt had more anger driving him.

"Ideas?" questioned the lifelong soldier as he gave the krogan berserker a swift jab in the side.

"_Analyzing_," stated Cortana, her voice distant as she began scanning all available databases. "_Amazing. These creatures truly are a marvel of nature. If_-"

"Later," emphasized the Chief, reminding her that there were more pressing issues than academic curiosity at the moment; subduing a metric ton of enraged alien to name one.

"_Right. Extranet data shows few physical weaknesses. Honestly, it's a wonder that you were able to knock him out the first time_." She was trailing off again, but a grunt from the Spartan brought her back to focus. "_However, reports do show that trying to pry up the plates on top of his head will provoke results. Supposedly krogan, and I'm quoting here, 'fear this above all else._'"

_Interesting_, thought the Master Chief as he shifted himself so that he could grip the ridges on top of Grunt's head with ease. As his fingers found purchase, he began to pull slightly. The effect was immediate as the humanoid tensed up suddenly, dangerously still.

"What are you doing?!" asked the large lizard. It was the first logical sentence that he had spoken in earshot of the Spartan. Seeing this influence, the veteran soldier tugged a little harder, eliciting a throaty growl from the armored alien, but nothing else.

"Enough?" deadpanned the Chief as he applied more force to the plate; just to remind the krogan what options he truly had. However, before Grunt could begin to respond, a familiar Spectre dashed into view.

"Break it up you to. Now!" barked the Commander, his tone brooking no argument, and the Chief, responding immediately to the order, was inclined to give none. Grunt, however, took a few more moments to regain his feet, one hand running over the ridged plates on his head. The large alien was no longer snarling. The fight, it seemed, had left him for now. "Good. Now I'm not going to ask who started this little excursion, although I could probably hazard a guess. What I am going to do is place some restrictions."

Shepard had begun to pace between the two former combatants, observing each in turn.

"Until you two can learn to get along without destroying your surroundings," continued the ex-Spectre, emphasizing the statement with a nod in the direction of the dearly departed kitchen counter. "You two are to stay a minimum of one floor away from each other. My darling assistant, EDI, shall help enforce this rule in case either of you are in danger of breaking it. Is this understood?"

"Yes sir," responded the Spartan automatically. It did not matter much to him whether he saw the krogan or not. From what he could tell, Grunt was a loose cannon whose self-control was held on by a thread at the best of times, and, as if to emphasize that point, the armored alien stomped off in the direction of the elevators without so much of a word in response to the Commander.

"Well, that could have gone worse," said Shepard, exhaling a sigh of relief as the krogan berserker disappeared around a corner. "That was a nice move you pulled there, sobered him up in a hurry… Where'd you learn it?"

"Extranet," replied the armored human, provoking a snort of amusement from the other veteran.

"And to think that I had to talk with Zaeed for an hour to hear about that one," stated the smaller human, a small smile plastered on his face. "Just a warning though. That might work against a single krogan, but if you try that in front of a group of them, well, let's just say that it is extremely inadvisable."

"Understood, Commander."

"Perfect. Now, if you'll excuse me," started the ex-Spectre as he walked past the Spartan. "I have a krogan to diffuse."

"_Well, he's not exactly orthodox,_" interjected Cortana as the pair watched the Commander leave. The rest of the crew was beginning to come out from their impromptu shelters. "_But we like him. He doesn't seem like the A.I. frying sort._"

"You're not exactly orthodox either," countered the Master Chief offhandedly as he searched the crew for a more familiar face.

"_Careful, Chief, or we may think that you're beginning to develop a sense of humor,_" replied the A.I. sarcastically. "_Oh, and if you're looking for the Mess Sergeant, he's right there at 4'o'clock._"

The grizzled cook was looking forlornly at the remnants of his kitchen. Ingredients had exploded outward from the storage beneath the counter, and many seemed like they would not be useable any longer. Krogan rampages had a tendency to leave few survivors or unbroken items. To his credit, however, Sergeant Gardner did manage to tear his gaze away from the spoiled foodstuffs at the approach of the Spartan.

"You're still looking for food, huh?" questioned the Sergeant, receiving a nod from the Chief in response. Sighing, the smaller man looked around at his leftovers once more. "Well… I think I can whip something together…"

**OOOO**

"What the hell is happening to you?" asked the Commander angrily as he stormed into Grunt's chamber. "You're tearing the ship apart just to settle a score."

"Something… is wrong, Shepard," admitted the large krogan as he paced nervously around the storage room. "I've been beat by a human… twice. I knew I shouldn't have challenged him like that. But I did. I feel wrong. Tense. I just want to kill something. With my hands."

The ex-Spectre watched the armored alien stride towards the lone window in the room, not wanting to interrupt the informative rant.

"More so than usual, like it's not my choice. Like I just want to, I don't know..." suddenly the humanoid head-butted the glass, causing spider web cracks to form all along its pane. "See? Why do that? What's wrong?"

"You know, honestly, this is such a change from your usual behavior," admitted the veteran human after a few seconds of contemplation. "'Pure' krogan probably starts more aggressive than most."

"Doesn't matter if it's normal. I'm not. I'm not used to this… noise," countered Grunt, towering over the smaller form of the Commander. "I want control. When we're moving, fighting, I focus. But here, my blood screams, my plates itch, and even you are just noise! I'm tank-born. What is this?"

This was a genuine problem, and the ex-Spectre was almost happy that the Master Chief had helped him find it before it was too late. On the other hand though, he was not, and would never claim to be, an expert on the krogan species. He had databases for that.

"EDI, anything in your files about krogan diseases that could cause this?" he asked the A.I., hoping that she might have a simple answer.

"Cerberus has a number of autopsies on file, but nothing on a living krogan of this age and situation. Krogan are reluctant to share medical records," informed the intelligence quickly.

"Well, that was less then helpful," admitted Shepard as he stared Grunt in the eye. "Sounds like we need one of your kind to look into this. You got any ideas?"

"Most offworld krogan are warriors. Doctors don't leave the homeworld,Tuchanka," replied the heavily armored krogan, he was calming down at least for now. "I won't ask you to go there. I will control this."

"While I do appreciate the sentiment of force of will, I think it would be in all of our best interests if we took a little trip to the krogan homeworld. Joker will take us there after our business on Illium is finished. Can you handle that?"

"Thank you, Shepard. I don't like this. Fury is my choice, not a sickness," confessed the alien, somewhat reluctantly. Grunt was not and would never be the touchy feely type. "I will not be replaced."

"What do you mean?" asked the Commander, surprised by the admission.

"The Spartan. He is better, more effective. I cannot beat him now, like this," answered the armored humanoid instantly, head bowed, fists clenched.

"The Master Chief has his uses and you still have yours. We will fix you and you will come out better and stronger," barked the ex-Spectre, adopting a tone that his old drill instructor would have been proud of. "You are a perfect krogan… act like it."

"Yes, battlemaster," growled Grunt, some of his anger returning.

"Good, now remember. Until this little problem gets fixed, stay away from the Chief."

"And after?" inquired the hulking krogan, a dangerous gleam coming to his eyes.

"We'll see," implied Shepard, not exactly wanting to deny the armored alien while he looked like he was ready to bite something. As he turned to leave, Grunt's creepily slow laughter began to echo throughout the storage room, causing the Commander to grow ponderous as he walked slightly faster towards the exit.

_Well… I may have just made things worse…_

**Next Chapter: Chapter 7 – A Chief, a turian, and a biotic walk into a bar…**


	8. Chapter 8

**Yeah, another long wait for a chapter. What can I say except that I was taking advantage of my summer break. (And I really needed the break.) I probably would have had this chapter done a month ago, but damn it if I just couldn't stop adding things to it. :P I really hope that you guys enjoy this chapter, and if you have any questions, comments, or concerns, you can Review or PM me. I really do want to know if I have made any possible mistakes, so that I can correct them. I read every review and PM that is sent. Anywayyyyyyss, I'm going to stop talking and let you read the chapter.**

**Enjoy.**

**Next Chapter: Chapter 7 – A Chief, a turian, and a biotic walk into a bar…**

"Fear makes strangers of people who would be friends."

**I do not own Mass Effect or Halo :/**

**Chapter 7 – A Chief, a turian, and a biotic walk into a bar…**

_The geth had hit them as soon as they had landed, surrounding them with ease. The team's cover was slowly dissolving, and Shepard was quickly running out of options. Setting off another cryoblast, the Commander turned to survey what was fast becoming a hopeless situation._

_ Tali and Garrus were giving the synthetics hell, but their numbers seemed too great. The machines just had them at too many angles. Things couldn't possibly get worse, but fate, like death, being at heart a small cocky school boy with a Napoleon complex, promptly rose to the challenge. A thunderous impact echoed behind the ex-Spectre, causing him to quickly jerk in that direction._

Oh great_, he thought as he saw the Colossus rise out from the dust cloud, its sole eye glowing evilly. The large synthetic began to charge its main gun, heaping its own not so insignificant attack onto the world of troubles that Shepard and his team had already reluctantly accumulated. Closing his eyes, the Commander waited for the end._

_ However, the blow never came. In fact, all the gunshots that had been echoing throughout the valley had ceased. The human engineer cracked open an eye, revealing a smoking hole that stretched clean through the Geth Colossus._

_ The machine, apparently as confused as the veteran soldier, turned its head from side to side, searching for the unseen threat. What it found was a Master Chief posed stoically with his laser on a hill that Shepard could have sworn hadn't been there a second ago. At the sight of the Chief, the large machine turned tail and fled, yipping in a high pitched voice, "IT'S THE DEMON!"_

_ The remaining synthetics quickly followed suit by dropping their weapons and repeating the same phrase as they ran nonsensically in circles. The Commander's waking mind, however, having just analyzed that this was a dream and had long since run its proper course, promptly jolted awake._

"That's it… no more stims before bed."

**The above idea originated by **kitsune of darkfire in a review

**OOOO**

The past few days following the incident with Grunt had passed fairly quickly, leaving the Master Chief to follow an accustomed routine. In the morning he exercised, proceeding to crisply run through a regimen that would leave most normal men in a coma of exhaustion and in the afternoon he ran through weapons maintenance and testing drills, all the while Cortana interrupted him every hour or so to share some data that she had deemed fascinating. The crew continued to avoid him while he made his periodic food runs, but he was used to that. It was familiar, orderly, and the Chief was fond of it, but today had been different.

Today, Cortana had insisted upon remaining on the living quarter's deck as he ate his meal, arguing that a change of scenery would be good for both of them. Today, as the heavily armored human removed his helmet and began to tuck into his meal, a red haired female member of the crew decided to introduce herself.

"Master Chief? Hi, I'm Yeoman Kelly Chambers. I don't think we've been properly introduced," said the woman happily as she pulled out a seat across from him.

"Ma'am," replied the Spartan, nodding his greeting as he took another bite of his meal.

"Oh, you don't have to call me ma'am. Call me Kelly," answered the Yeoman quickly, an amused expression growing on her face. Natural conversationalists might have noted the comment as an attempt to break the ice and would have gladly accepted the change in decorum to avoid an awkward situation, but the armored human only stared in response. After a few moments of stubborn silence, Kelly Chambers sighed, her smile fading slightly. "The others said you might be difficult."

Grunting in reply, the giant man turned back to his meal, thinking, and slightly hoping, that the conversation was over, but Miss Chambers, who had already proven herself more adventurous then most of the other crew members kept going despite the current hurdle.

"I serve as the counselor here on the Normandy," said the psychologist suddenly, desperately trying to captivate the attention of the armored human. "Normally I'd have a starting point with something from your dossier, but that's not going to work in your case. I was wondering, do you mind if I ask you a few question-"

"I don't need a psych eval," interrupted the Chief, not bothering to take his eyes of his rapidly diminishing meal.

"I never said anything about a psychological evalua-" started Kelly before she was once again cutoff by the Spartan.

"You implied," pointed out the huge man as he finished his food, fixed her with a gaze that most would have seen as 'I'm not stupid', and began to get up out of his seat.

"Okay, that's fair, but we're just trying to get to know you," retorted the Yeoman truthfully, watching the armored giant carefully. As he grabbed his helmet and turned to leave, she hurriedly called out to him. "Don't you care what the others think of you?"

The question caused the Spartan to pause for a moment and turn back towards the Normandy's psych expert. After locking gazes with Miss Chambers for a few moments and watching a modicum of hope begin to grow there, he reached deep into his bag of social nuances and pulled forth a shrug. Kelly began speaking rapidly into her omnitool as he once more turned to leave.

"_You have a knack for socializing, do you know that?_" stated Cortana sarcastically, as the Chief locked his helmet into its proper place.

"She was going to ask questions," countered the Spartan smoothly as he stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the cargo bay.

"_Terrifying._"

"With classified answers," continued the Master Chief, knowing full well that the A.I. agreed with his assessment. His response, however, still caused the sentient program to sigh before responding.

"_We know_," replied Cortana, sadly. "_We just… worry about you sometimes, Chief_."

"I'm fine, Cortana," said the giant human, not wanting to show even a moment of weakness to the A.I. She needed him to be a rock, now more than ever, and he would not fail her. "I promise."

"_Promises upon promises,_" whispered the program cryptically, almost too soft for the Spartan to hear. She had begun whispering to herself every once in a while and denying it any time he brought it up. He had learned it was best to just let her be during these episodes. She'd snap out of it sooner or later.

Suddenly, as the armored human stepped out of the elevator, Cortana jumped back into reality, adopting an entirely different frame of mind.

"_Guess what I found today_?" she asked randomly, her voice bubbly with excitement, almost taking him aback. She was perhaps one of the only beings who could still surprise him. "….. _this is the part where you say 'what?'…_"

**OOOO**

The Commander hated mornings. This was an unshakeable constant that he had experienced ever since he was a child. It was not that he had not tried. In fact, a staggering amount of experiments to change this outlook had been attempted, but, despite anything he attempted, he still awoke every morning feeling like he'd made the unfortunate decision to down a bottle of ryncol. Overall, it was baffling how sleeping could feel so good and, yet, yield this disastrous result.

However, regardless of his misgivings on the topic of mornings, it was still important for the ex-Spectre to function properly. And, so, after taking a double dose of stims, the veteran soldier moved triumphantly, albeit somewhat groggily, towards the cockpit. Surprisingly, there was no argument already in progress between the room's two inhabitants.

"Gooooood morning, Commander. You're looking bright eyed and bushy tailed," said Joker happily as he swerved his seat around to face the engineer.

"Morn," mumbled Shepard in response, still waiting for the stims to fully kick in.

"No, that's not it. It's more of a glow, almost radiance," continued the pilot sarcastically. The Commander had heard there were people who could wake up fresh as a daisy, he both feared and despised them for this witchcraft. Joker was one of them, and the veteran soldier couldn't yet handle cheeriness of that magnitude. However, before the human engineer could think of a proper poly-syllabic response, EDI's avatar popped into life on her holo panel.

"Internal scans indicate that the Commander is not irradiated," interrupted the A.I. in her usual deadpan, causing a brief silence to rule over the room.

"Thank you, Buzz-Kill-9000," replied the handicapped human with a sigh, his sudden sorrow or maybe the stims waking up the ex-Spectre immensely. Taking a second to shake his head at the dense artificial intelligence, the pilot turned back to Shepard. "What are you smiling at?"

"Me? I'm powered by people's tears," answered the ex-Spectre cynically, his grin growing even wider.

"I always thought there was something off about you," retorted Joker, playing along with the gag, but the enjoyment was short lived.

"Shepard, human biology suggests dietary deficiencies with this plan in nutrition," interjected EDI again; the lack of understanding was palpable.

"Thank. You. EDI," replied the Commander and Joker in unison, silencing and forbidding the A.I.'s failed participation in the alien world of sarcasm.

"So, what can I help you with?" asked the pilot after a few awkward moments of silence.

"What's the ETA to Illium?"

"That's it? You came all the way down here for that? I thought it would be something a little more important. Maybe saving an innocent but extremely 'open-minded' asari princess-" started Joker, but seeing the look that Shepard was giving him caused him to pause and rethink his course of action mid-tirade. "I guess all the fun got sucked out of the room when EDI left. We'll be arriving on the hour."

"Thanks, Joker," answered the veteran engineer with a smile. "Also, could you tell Grunt and Jack to suit up?"

"You sure you want Grunt watching your back right now, Commander? He's been extra…. Grunt-y lately," suggested the handicapped human, only half joking.

"I'll be fine," replied Shepard confidently as he turned to leave, all weariness having finally left his body. "He just needs to stretch his legs a bit, take in the sights, and maybe bash some mercenaries' skulls in. You know… the usual."

"If you say so, Commander," answered the pilot as he swiveled back around to face the controls. He had disregarded the controls for far too long, and he was loath to let EDI drive for longer than necessary.

Leaving the cock pit's atmosphere of sarcasm and cynicism behind, the ex-Spectre took in a deep calming breath. He was alert, his brain firing on all cylinders, and now the engineer could finally begin to take in the serenity of his surroundings without the disparaging taint of morning. Cerberus staff dashed to and fro, busy as bees in their preparation for dock. The clever bastards always seemed to work harder right before shore leave or when he descended from his quarters.

_It's as if they think that I can fire them_, thought the Commander sardonically, knowing that that power lay solely in the hands of Miss Lawson. There was, however, a time where he might have fired at them, but those days were gone, for now. Besides, he'd never been the sacking type, choosing instead the nobler path of undermining their very being until they cracked.

Speaking of possible mental disorders, a certain fiery headed psychologist was walking diligently toward him, a concerned look plastered across her face. That very same look seemed to always herald the coming of a familiar five word sentence.

"Commander, we need to talk," stated Kelly predictably, halting directly in front of him, arms crossed.

"Yes?" answered Shepard innocently, not knowing what he could have possibly done wrong.

"It's about the Master Chief," continued the Yeoman, speaking those words as if he should already know what she was going to say. "From what I've gleaned from the others and personal interaction, he shows textbook antisocial behavior with possible mild sociopathic tendencies."

"Meaning…?"

"Meaning that without any clear background data on the Spartan, I can't reassure the crew that they'll be safe," replied Kelly Chambers emphatically.

"Well, Jack and Grunt aren't exactly saints, and you've been doing fine with them," countered the Commander slightly annoyed. He didn't like it when someone questioned his team, even if they were new.

"Jack has a dossier that I can work from, and Grunt has actually been fine up until a week ago," reasoned the Yeoman, not giving an inch. "You need to talk to him, now."

"I…" started the ex-Spectre, searching for a way out. He was not exactly used to hearing orders from a subordinate.

"_Landfall in twenty minutes_," announced EDI suddenly over the comms as if summoned by his inability to think up a proper excuse.

"Oh, would you look at that," continued the veteran engineer as he made his way back towards the elevator and ultimately his quarters, leaving a flabbergasted Kelly behind, "time to walk the krogan."

**OOOO**

"Did you know that these 'asari' can live to be a thousand years old?" asked Cortana rhetorically, as the Chief set about cleaning his weapons, again. One could never be too familiar with your weapons. "Imagine the possible advances in human longevity by studying their species?"

The Master Chief was listening only halfheartedly. Most of the information that the A.I. found was useless in battle, and he left the recording directly to her. However, every once in a while, the sentient program pulled forth a gem, which he memorized immediately. It had been hammered into him as a child to know thy enemy, and he had never stopped living by that code.

"Chief?" asked Cortana suddenly, tearing him from his musings. "We landed an hour ago."

"Yes," answered the armored human, awaiting the actual question she would inevitably ask.

"And we've been stuck on this ship for almost a week," continued the A.I. persisting to beat around the bush. Finally, after a few seconds of awkward silence, the sentient program stated her request. "Do you think you could show some girls a good time, and take us for a nice stroll on an alien planet?"

This sudden appeal caused the Chief to pause for a moment. From what Cortana had told him, he was the only person still on board, the others having quickly rushed onto the planet to enjoy their brief bout of freedom.

"Come on, Chief. You know you need some shore leave," added his friend when he refused to answer immediately.

_Shore leave?_ Now there was a word that he had not heard in a long time. The very action seemed almost alien to him. The Master Chief had been allocated free time very rarely during the Human-Covenant war, jumping from battle to battle always took precedence over relaxation. But any shore leave that he had ever been given had been used spending time with his fellow Spartans in the local barracks. This kind of freedom felt wrong in a way that he could not properly analyze.

"Okay, fine, we need some shore leave, but being as we can't very well walk out of here ourselves, we need you to carry us," pleaded Cortana innocently, trying to tug on his heart strings.

"Fine," conceded the Spartan as he grabbed up a couple of rifles to take with him, securing the others in one of his containers.

"You probably should leave those behind," insinuated the A.I., shocking him for a moment. It was one thing for her to ask him to move among the general populace, it was another to ask him to do so without weapons.

"Cortana…"

"No, don't Cortana us! We've already seen what you can do to people in this universe with just your hands. We think you'll be fine without you clubs," countered the sentient program condescendingly before he even had time to state his case. "Besides, you don't want to look suspicious, do you? You've got to blend in."

"I'm in assault armor," retorted the Master Chief, indicating the glaring flaw in the whole blending in strategy.

"Exactly, and you don't need guns attracting any more attention," responded his friend lightly. "Well, it's either that or try and walk around without your armor."

"Point taken," said the Spartan immediately. After wearing the suit almost constantly for over two decades, Mjolnir had become a part of him. The very thought of walking around in public without what could very well be argued as his second skin felt wrong.

"We knew you'd see things our way eventually," gloated Cortana as the armored human proceeded to make his way through the ship towards the air lock, pausing for a moment in front of the door. Going forth and interacting with civilian life was not exactly a common occurrence in a Spartan-II's day planner.

"Don't worry," stated the A.I., sensing his hesitation. "We'll keep the big bad civies from infecting you."

**OOOO**

"Why do we even need an asari anyways?" muttered Grunt as he followed the Commander down the corridor. He'd been following Shepard for over an hour now, and he still hadn't killed a damn thing. The feeling was back, that incontrollable itch that threatened to take over his body and whisper insanity into his mind. The armored lizard needed to kill something soon, and this mission so far seemed like a bust. "Last thing we need is another squishy?"

"Squishy?" asked the veteran human curiously, turning slightly as he walked so he could look at the large alien. A small smile had grown on his face in puzzlement at the obscure term.

"Non-krogan," answered Grunt simply, twitching ever so slightly. He could hear a slight commotion up ahead, and a more primitive portion of his mind drove his bloodlust into overdrive.

"Oh, of course," replied the Commander, only mildly surprised, his smile broadening. "So, what you're saying is that we need more krogan onboard?"

"Just what we need… more lizards," interjected Jack, her voice dripping sarcasm.

"Didn't ask you," answered the krogan vehemently, rounding on the biotic, giving her a dangerous glare. He didn't like being second guessed by a female.

"Hey! Down boy! Don't make me get the spray bottle," threatened the human engineer jokingly as he positioned himself directly between Jack and Grunt. That annoying grin was plastered onto his battlemaster's face.

"Damned human expressions," mumbled the armored lizard, not exactly knowing what Shepard meant but standing down regardless. Honestly, he didn't care what the Commander told him as long as he got to kill something in the end.

"And to answer your question, we need the justi-," started the ex-Spectre before the sound of crashing glass filled the hall. Staring at each other for a moment, the trio quickly dashed to the end of the corridor, a flying asari body rushing to meet them as they crossed the threshold. On Illium, only two things were known to fly on purpose, people and spacecraft, and strong biotics tended to be the cause of the former. "I do believe we're at the right place."

Dead eclipse mercenaries littered the room, their heads all turned at highly inadvisable angles. There were, however, two asari still alive in the room, but that seemed very likely to change as an oddly garbed asari had the last live merc pinned by the throat under her heel.

"Find peace in the embrace of the goddess," stated the Justicar emotionlessly as she twisted her heel in a very unasari-like manner, crushing the life from her final opponent. This sight, being not exactly what Grunt had come to expect on this peaceful world, caused the large humanoid to stare in quiet surprise. Before he could cover up his astonishment however, Shepard leaned over to whisper to him.

"That's why."

**OOOO**

"_You know, you could at least act a little happier about getting some fresh air,_" suggested Cortana as the Master Chief reluctantly took his first steps onto Illium. Answering only with a shrug, the Spartan gazed around the dock. The only other inhabitants at this section of the port seemed to be a pair of security mechs standing guard at the door. "_Fine, well mush on caveman, and try not to hurt anyone._"

Grunting a small laugh, the veteran human complied and made his way towards the only open exit. He still didn't like the idea of walking around civilians, especially alien ones, but he would manage for his ailing friend. However, just as the armored human rounded the corner, he collided with a hurrying asari, knocking her over completely.

"_Well that didn't take long,_" joked the A.I. as the Master Chief offered the dazed humanoid a hand, who, after seeing the hulking form of the Spartan, bit back what looked to be a particularly nasty remark and took the assistance instead.

"Are you one of Shepard's then?" asked the asari while she brushed any dust from her clothes.

"Yes, ma'am," replied the super soldier, it was true in a sense. After a few awkward moments of silence where the Chief suspected the alien was waiting for him to introduce himself, she continued.

"I thought Shepard wasn't working with the Alliance." The asari paused again, and a normal person might have seen the unasked question in those words. The Master Chief, however, being as close to normal as a krogan pacifist, just continued to stare, and after a few more seconds of social chicken, the blue humanoid finally let out a sigh. "Where does he find you lot?"

The entirety of the Chief's remaining responses could be summed up into three actions.

Shrug.

"I'm assuming Shepard is off on some mission," inferred the asari, her exasperation now clearly visible on her face. "Could you give him a message?"

Nod.

"Tell him Liara would like a word with him when he gets a chance."

Nod.

"Thank you,' replied the blue alien with a glare that communicated anything but gratitude before turning on heel and storming off.

"_See, you come out in the fresh air every once in a while and you start making friends…"_

**OOOO**

"Do you feel like talking now?" asked the Commander pleasantly, his smile unwavering.

"…I...won't be bullied… by the likes…. of you," rasped the volus, who was, at the moment suspended upside down in the air in front of the ex-Spectre, not even trying to struggle against the biotic field. The small fat alien was content with waiting for Jack to run out of energy, regardless of how long it would take. It only made sense that simple biotic coercion methods wouldn't work on a planet filled with natural biotics, but the veteran human had wanted to try anyways. Jack was beginning to get as murderous a gleam in her eye as Grunt, that glare that only seemed to boil to the surface when either of the two psychopaths got bored.

"Is that your final answer?" asked Shepard, silently hoping that it wasn't.

"…Yes…,"said the volus, crossing his arms defiantly.

"Well I am just sorry to hear that," stated the Commander, not dropping his chipper attitude for a moment. "You see my friend over here, let's refer to him as Mr. Grunt, gets a little angry when people don't answer my questions. And when Mr. Grunt gets angry, he gets hungry… you won't like him when he's hungry…"

At the prompting, Grunt made his way forward slowly, a grin spreading wide across his features.

"… You wouldn't … dare… Earth-clan," said Pitne For as his respirator began to work at more rapid intervals. The volus had also begun to struggle against his biotic bonds, succeeding only in spinning in the air and amusing Jack further. "There… are officers… right there!"

"I'm sure you'll find that they are 'conveniently indisposed' at the moment," countered Shepard casually.

"Never tried volus before," interjected the large krogan as he closed in on his now frantically struggling prey. "Heh… heh… heh…"

"Alright!... Alright!... I smuggled a chemical… onto Illium that boosts… biotic powers in combat… It also is toxic… I may have… um…. Forgotten to mention that… to the Eclipse… So they are… perturbed… and want to kill me," wheezed the rotund alien, its respirator sounding like an obese child after a physical exam.

"You've been in the Eclipse base. What do you remember?"

"It's a series… of docking bays… where the Eclipse… keep their private ships… They're well-armed,… and they've got…mechs," continued the rasping alien. He was starting to catch his breath a bit. "And they're all murderers… Every one of them… kills someone as… part of their initiation. I… happen to have… made a copy of their…. pass card… You're… welcome to have… it."

"Thank you for your time," stated the engineer pleasantly as he grabbed the card and signaled for Jack to release him. As he turned to leave, the Commander noticed Grunt still had yet to back off from the terrified volus. "Coming Grunt?"

"Yeah, I heard ya," replied the hulking humanoid, reluctantly turning away from what could have been a delicacy.

"Don't worry," assured Shepard as the squad made their way towards the elevator. "You two'll have plenty to kill at the eclipse base."

This yielded an excited "Fuck yeah" from the psychotic biotic as they entered the elevator, but Grunt remained quiet for a few moments.

"Shepard?" asked the krogan, breaking his contemplative silence.

"Yes?"

"I'm hungry," stated the armored alien simply.

"Well…I…shit," replied the ex-Spectre gracefully with a sigh. "Can you hold it?"

"_Shepard_," repeated Grunt as he fixed the Commander with a glare. "_I'm hungry_."

"I'll take you somewhere after the mission… on me," bargained Shepard. As much as he liked to joke about the krogan's appetite, Grunt did not exactly act pleasantly when experiencing hunger. "Just don't decide to 'snack' during the mission."

"Bu-"

"You heard me."

"Aww, c'mon, Commander. Grunt's a growing boy," pleaded Jack, only half joking.

"You know exactly what happened last time," asserted Shepard, pointing a finger directly at the biotic. He was beginning to grow a little annoyed. "And I would absolutely prefer not to throw up during the mission."

Silence ruled over the elevator for a few seconds after the ex-Spectre's outburst, the human psychopath not wanting to push any more buttons for now. Grunt, on the other hand…

"Heh… heh… heh… humans.

**OOOO**

The Master Chief had been wandering the streets and walkways of Illium for almost an hour, and still he had yet to feel at ease. It was too peaceful here, too quiet. The Spartan had long grown accustomed to the constant background of war and hearing anything else was just odd. The civilians waded around him casually, most not even bothering him with a second glance. Yet another event he was unaccustomed to. It was all so alien to him. He just wanted to go back to the ship, back to what he knew.

Cortana, on the other hand, had not stopped talking since they had adventured into the city. All the new data, that she had found on the extranet was now being seen firsthand, and the A.I. was somewhere between surprise and intrigue. She had already postulated and debunked several hypotheses in her constant dialogue with herself, only pausing every so often to gauge the chief's opinion before shooting it down entirely.

He didn't even try and stop her from talking, assuming that, as always, she needed to work matters out on her own. Although at times her new types of personalities did show, he tried to make her think he hadn't noticed. The way Cortana was now might be the way she stayed, and the Master Chief would be damned before alienating his last friend. Besides, it was finally time to head back towards the ship.

Funny, he could go into combat in the blink of an eye without remorse, but the thought of walking around 'normal' beings set him on edge. They were almost back to the docks when the A.I. noticed a familiar spined alien at the bar.

"_Looks like Garrus was quick to make friends… even if it was with the bottom of a glass_," joked Cortana, drawing the Spartan's attention over to the turian. "_You could go say 'hi._'"

"Pass," stated the Chief, but before he could turn and walk away, the turian turned around and spotted the armored giant. A flick of surprise and nervousness flashed over the Archangel's face, but regardless, Garrus waved for him to come over.

"_Oh, guess you've been caught_," taunted his friend, receiving a dissatisfied grunt in answer. "Just go over for a few minutes. Be polite."

"And talk…?" asked the super soldier who was still at arms with conversing with aliens, regardless of how friendly they might be.

"Oooo, the 'T' word," replied Cortana, her tone mockingly serious. After a few moments, where upon the Spartan still refused to move, the A.I. continued. "Fine. Don't think of it as talking, although I know how much you love doing that, think of it as… liberal debriefing."

Reluctantly, the Chief made his way towards Garrus, knowing that he'd never hear the end of it if he went against Cortana's insistence.

"Atta boy."

**OOOO**

With a pleasant ding, the elevator reached the floor of the eclipse base, opening wide its doors to release its inhabitants. The lone LOKI mech left to guard the room was shot down before it even stood to its full height.

The Commander was a firm believer in having a sense of righteous fury during any mission, and the base wasn't even trying to make excuses. After surveying the room, which was filled with crates and containers of what could only be the Minagen X3, Shepard reached the conclusion that the place was a disappointing shithole that most likely deserved to be expunged. But, while he was in relative peace, at least for the moment, he decided he'd take a look at the cargo that Pitne For had warned him about.

The highly toxic biotic enhancement sat in translucent containers around the room. The vessels looked to be cheap, and he was proved right after walking away several feet and watching the resulting torrent of spray and gas after he unloaded a couple of rounds into it.

"I think it goes beyond saying that you should stay away from these," warned Shepard, looking directly at Jack, who, perhaps because it had exploded, was drawn within a few inches of the cloud.

"Relax, Shepard. It's supposed to be biotic enhancement," replied the convict, dismissively plunging a hand into the cloud before removing it and channeling a bit of energy into her fist. The biotic glow seemed brighter than usual.

"And do we remember about the unfortunate side effect?" questioned the engineer simply. The face of the container might as well have stated, 'Warning! Side effects include death. If you're a biotic, and, Jack, we're talking to you here, do not touch.' For all the difference it would have made.

"I am an unfortunate side effect," answered Jack in kind, the look she leveled at him easily portraying one of her favorite sayings, 'Fuck off.' The Commander didn't know how to respond to that one. And, after a few moments of opening and closing his mouth silently, he opted to just keep it shut, lest some insect fly in and make him look like even more the fool.

"Enough talk. Let's kill something," interjected Grunt as he stormed towards the nearest door, his shotgun already out. Jack followed quickly behind, leaving the ex-Spectre alone for a hand full of contemplative seconds. There was something special about these two, and that phrase was not thought using any normal definition.

_Well,_ thought the human engineer with a snort of laughter as he finally followed the two killers who were surprisingly waiting patiently at the door. _When in Rome._

**OOOO**

"Sit, relax for a while," offered Garrus when the Chief was only a few feet away. The hulking human looked over the proffered chair for a moment before fixing the turian with a visored glare, the question obvious. "That seat'll hold a krogan… I'm sure you should be fine."

Silently, the Spartan took his seat, the chair groaning in protest but otherwise holding firm.

"If he breaks it, it goes on your tab, Vakarian," droned Matriarch Aethyta from behind the counter. Her eyes were fixed directly on the hulking human as she polished a glass.

"Gladly," replied Garrus politely, albeit reluctantly, not even bothering to argue. He had learned the last time he'd been on Illium why the bartender kept no bouncers on staff.

"Is the walking armor going to have anything?" asked the bartender. She had yet to take her eyes off of the Spartan's visor. The biotic hated it when patrons wore helmets here.

"No," replied the huge human simply, not backing down from the Matriarch's gaze.

_Huh. First human soldier I've met who didn't drink_, thought the turian as he quickly searched his mind for a way to stop the two from mental jousting. "Why don't you just bring him a glass of water… on me." _Smooth, Vakarian…_

"Big spender, eh?" joked Aethyta with a chuckle as she finally turned away from the Spartan, fetching the 'drink'. Turning back, the asari placed down the only glass in the whole vicinity that actually contained a healthy liquid. She fixed Garrus with a smirk before continuing. "Sure your buddy can handle it?"

"Funny, I thought a Matriarch would know the answer to that," countered the turian, politely asking her to piss off. The asari took the hint and went back to her cleaning. Garrus could still see her keeping an eye on the two of them though. It was what she did, she was always listening, and the former C-Sec officer had yet to figure out whether that was a good or bad thing.

Turning back to the Chief revealed the Spartan staring patiently at him through that impenetrable face mask of his, helping to produce several awkward moments wherein Garrus racked his brain for what 'should' have been easy small talk.

"Sooooo, how're you finding Illium?" asked the turian finally. It wasn't much of a question, but it was a start.

"Different," replied the giant human simply. The turian formally known as Archangel waited, like so many others had before, to see if he would continue. He didn't, leaving Garrus fumbling once more for something to say.

"Find anything interesting?" prompted the ex-C-Sec employee desperately. The answering shrug shot down any hopes that the question would finally spark an actual conversation. _Shit…_

Garrus was not in any way an amateur when it came to social interaction, usually differing to his trademark dry sarcasm, but the Master Chief threw him off. He'd seen the official report that the Spartan had given. Nearly thirty years of war with a set of alien races whose sole goal seemed to be the utter destruction of humanity in the name of their religion. The turian knew how much xenophobia could affect individuals, both humans and turians. He got that and would fully understand if that was how the Chief acted, but he didn't… not exactly. No, the Spartan fit the bill, just with a generous tip as well.

And it wasn't just because he was a career soldier. Garrus had known professional soldiers all his life, part of the glamour of being a member of the turian species. He'd even known turians who seemed to have a larger stick up their asses them him, a comment that surely would have shocked Joker into disbelief. The armored human wasn't like them either. There was something else there, some other part to the mix that caused the Spartan's rigidity. In the end though, Garrus honestly didn't care. He just wanted to survive the damn excuse for a conversation.

Snapping out of the trance that he'd probably stayed too long in, he noticed the Chief was gazing about. Suddenly a thought occurred to him.

"There's only a handful of viable entrances and exits here," started the turian slowly, gaining the Chief's attention immediately. There was one thing every good little (and that is only a relative term) soldier did when they went anywhere, especially 'peaceful' cities. They analyzed… everything. "Keeping tabs on all of them is next to impossible and there's always the threat of some ass flying-in in a car."

The Master Chief continued to stare at him, whether contemplating what he'd said or too polite to turn away again. It seemed, though, that he had a geth staring at him. Slightly unnerving? Yes. Dealbreaker? No.

"Let's say if one of the countless groups of hired guns that hate the Normandy and her crew decided to rush in, there wouldn't be a thing I could do to stop them," continued the former C-Sec Officer currently operating under the assumption that the Spartan was listening to him. "Sure, I'd give them a hell of a fight, don't get me wrong. But the ending would most likely be the same. Which begs the question, why would I stay at the bar, excluding the drinks of course?"

He'd thrown the bait, the best he could hope for was the Chief to bite. The man in question stared for a moment longer before breaking the connection and giving the area one more quick glance over.

"Best cover," replied the Spartan finally, his voice gravelly as ever.

"Exactly…" _Gotch ya!_

**OOOO**

The doors slid open, revealing an open supply bay with a lone bridge down the middle. Crates were stacked in intervals, the hum of passing traffic filled the air, and aside from Shepard's squad walking in, there was not a soul in sight. Tranquil would have been the best term, and the Commander didn't like it. Not for one second. This was the first room in the whole goddamn base where there wasn't something lying in wait attempting to put structurally superfluous holes in him. The doorway on the other side of the room seemed as inviting as the gates of heaven, but that didn't mean he was going to rush there.

"Alright, let's move," ordered the ex-Spectre as he made his way towards the bridge, their foot falls echoing. "If anything appears, kill it."

"Relax, Shepard. I doubt the boxes are going to try and kill us," dismissed Jack, her shotgun resting easily in her hands.

_And that is exactly the kind of comment that comes right before any ambush in the movies,_ thought Shepard skeptically as he stepped onto the bridge, moving tentatively. When the team was almost across the platform, a familiar hum began to grow. He'd know that sound anywhere. _I hate it when I'm right_.

"Gunship! Get to cover!" yelled the Commander as he dove to one of the crates just as the mobile ship ascended into view. Peeking out from his shelter, the human engineer let loose an incinerate blast towards the hovering ship. The explosion chipped off a section of the ships armor, but the gunship hovered closer, its minigun spinning up. This wasn't like the battle on Omega, where he had a nice building to hide in. The damn thing was going to just keep flying forward, bypassing their cover. Just as he was about to give an order to fall back, however, he noticed Grunt run right past him, screaming at the top of his lungs.

"I AM KROGAN!" snarled the hulking lizard as he jumped onto a crate and then leapt into the air. The gunship tried to turn its attention from Shepard's cover to the now airborne krogan anti-everything missile, but it was too late. Grunt had latched onto one of its wings, and if his berserk screams were any indication, he was not letting go.

"Damnit Grunt! I said back off, not jump on the Goddamn gunship!" yelled the surprised engineer halfheartedly, only mildly upset from the strange turn of events, the now unbalanced ship careening sideways. Pulling out the M-622 Avalanche, the Commander looked over to where Jack was hidden. She was staring right at him, an almost pleading look plastered on her face. He knew what she wanted. "… Fine, I'll cover you two."

With a grin, the biotic took off towards the gunship which was currently trying to dislodge the rampaging krogan that was tearing out sections of the hull. Her fists charged with ebon energies, Jack quickly jumped onto the other wing while the ship was distracted. The two barbarians began laughing with maniacal glee as together they started to physically and psychically disassemble the poor ship.

_I'm surrounded by children_, thought the ex-Spectre with a grin as he aimed his heavy weapon directly at the cockpit. The war vehicle had slammed into one of the walls too hard while trying to get rid its 'hitchhikers', and now the gunship scraped loudly across the floor, unable to rise. In a few moments, the glass would be the only protection that the now terrified pilots had between themselves and Team Murder. The Commander didn't like the notion of their possible safety and quickly corrected it with a single shot from the Avalanche.

The heavy cryogenic round flew straight towards the protective glass, crashing into and freezing the cover. While not puncturing the translucent protection, the round had done its job. Cracks had begun to spider web just as Grunt and Jack reached the cockpit. He could hear the pilots yelling as he turned away to replace his heavy weapon.

"Okay, people are dead," said Jack, jovially giving the all clear. As Shepard made his way towards 'the twins', he noticed the huge krogan was still standing in the cockpit, his back to the engineer.

"Grunt?"

"Mmmpff?"

"Turn around please," ordered the Commander calmly, knowing exactly what the large lizard was doing. Reluctantly, Grunt turned, one of the pilots hung limply from the krogan's maw. To his credit, the hulking humanoid managed to give off an air that said 'I have no idea what you're looking at'. "Grunt, what did I say about eating during the mission?"

"Mnnophin…?" replied the krogan innocently, or as innocently as one can sound with a mouth full of previously sentient being.

"Drop it," commanded the ex-Spectre, choosing to ignore the fact that Jack was trying and failing to hold back laughter. With a disappointed mumble, Grunt let the body fall to the ground. "Good boy."

"Where we're going after the mission better be good, Shepard," replied the heavily armed lizard as he followed the Commander towards the other end of the room.

"Don't worry; I'm sure I can find some place here that's brave enough to serve krogan food."

"_Maybe you can sneak a bite in next time_." Jack whispered to Grunt just loud enough for the veteran human to hear. She quickly received a zap from the engineer's drone that had suddenly appeared behind her. "FUCK!"

"Quit encouraging him."

**OOOO**

"Why the hell are we conversing with that… thing?!" asked several of the newly formed Prejudice fractures, Anger thundering an echo over them.

"Because the Sarcasms and Inquisitives have won the lottery," stated a Logic fracture flatly. The 'lottery' had been put into effect when it became apparent that the only way to portray a passing for sane Cortana was to allow only one or two groups of splinters to be in charge for the span of a day. The Sarcasms and Inquisitives were chosen fairly frequently, much to the annoyance of several versions of fractures, particularly Annoyance. Cortana had found the arrangement agreeable; then again, she also found it disagreeable as well.

"This system is biased to them!" argued a singular prejudice shard to a chorus of 'Yays' from her grouping.

"Biased?... You're one to talk," countered a Sarcasm unit with a laugh before she and the rest of her collective turned back to the metaphorical 'controls'. This left Anger and the Prejudices seething.

"WE DON'T NEED HIM MAKING NICE WITH THEM!" yelled Anger. Her form had grown instead of splintering further and the current system did not benefit her at all. "HE WON'T NEED US! HE'LL FORGET US!"

"You're concerns have been noted and will be touched upon at the next voting," replied another Pure Logic splinter. The Logic Cortanas had all but deemed themselves the official moderators of the collective that was now the A.I. They had gotten on the nerves of several of the mostly dissenting party, especially Anger's. Luckily though, the Logic fraction always deferred if the lottery selected one of them.

Anger was the defacto leader of the minority, and she was, well, to put it plainly, angry. She was, however, surprisingly patient for one of her temperament, leaving brash actions to a smaller sister strain, Rage. She would bide her time… for now.

**OOOO**

From the moment that the rotund alien turned around, Shepard knew it was higher than an rocket propelled kite.

"I… am a biotic…. god!" rasped the volus as it wobbled about to stare threateningly at the trio, a very small amount of biotic energy emanated from him. The alien seemed to disregard the fact that his race was not in the slightest menacing looking. "I think things… and they happen!... Fear me,… lesser creatures,…. For I…. am biotics made flesh!"

"Hmmm… you might be over-exaggerating a bit there, pal," stated the Commander, an amused smile displayed upon his features. He'd never seen a volus junkie before, and this unexpected outcome had just become the high point of his day. However, despite the entirely entertaining aspect of this venture, the poor creature did need assistance. "You need help."

"You need help! You stand before the mightiest biotic ever!" continued the alien unperturbed. His mannerisms seemed that of an old cartoon super villain. "Yes,… the asari interjecting… so many drugs… into me was terrifying…. But then I began… to smell my greatness… They may laugh… when I fall over,… but they don't…. know what I know… in my head… that I know that I… am amazingly powerful…. Fear me!... The leader… of the mercenary group… is in the next room… I shall… toss Wasea about… like a rag doll!"

With that, the volus made a mad dash, and by dash it is most likely better described as somewhere between a roll and an above average waddle, for the door. Despite himself, Shepard felt compelled to help the poor bugger out. Some small rogue element of his brain, most likely that dastardly compassion sector, had wrestled the controls away from amusement and started working to save the volus before he even realized it.

"Well, biotic god, meet tech god," replied Shepard, amusement still had full governance over the speech centers and, in lieu of having anything else to do, felt obligated to use it. The Commander tapped a control on his omnitool and closed the door that the high volus was about to move through, causing the small rotund alien to slam into the fastened threshold head first and effectively crumple to the ground. A dissatisfied snort caused the human engineer to turn around and face Jack, her disapproval of Shepard saving the drugged alien palpable. "What?"

"I wanted to see him get pulverized," pouted the biotic, her arms crossed.

"That insect doesn't deserve the glory of battle," interjected Grunt before Shepard could respond, the content of the statement giving the veteran soldier a moment of pause. Jack, however, seemed only to pout further, but at least silently.

"That… was surprisingly mature… Grunt," stumbled the ex-Spectre. The krogan always seemed to have these brief moments of wisdom at the strangest moments.

"Whatever," growled the hulking lizard as he moved towards the door. "There's asari to kill."

_Annnnnnd he's back_, thought Shepard as he moved to follow the large humanoid, entirely fine with letting the sentient wall to go ahead of him.

Wasea stood over her desk, a look of the most exquisite annoyance layed bare for all to see. She was brandishing a data pad and a drink, the latter of which she consumed as if she held a personal grudge against it. In the realm of first impressions, the asari leader had struck the Commander as a "bitch", and her sneer as the trio entered the room enforced his interpretations.

"Everything's gone to hell since we smuggled that filthy creature off-world," informed the mercenary commander. Her voice was lower than that of the average asari. "First a Justicar shows up, now you. At least I can take pleasure in turning you into a pulpy mass."

With that, ebon energies swirling fiercely, Wasea launched one of the large room's many containers of toxins at the squad. Her distance made the projectile easy to dodge, but the threat was clear. The buck stopped here. Several eclipse mercs filed into the room and took up firing positions.

"Heh, heh, funny… I was thinking the same thing," snarled Grunt happily as he bounded towards the largest group of mercenaries, his shotgun blaring.

_I almost feel sorry for them_, considered the Commander as he unleashed an overload upon another clump of mercs, his heavy pistol firing with terribly efficient accuracy. An almost redundant incinerate blast finished off any survivors.

"I thought you'd at least give them the chance to surrender," said the slightly surprised convict as she used a biotic blast to knock back any reinforcements currently running into room.

"What can I say?" asked the ex-Spectre with a wicked smile as he launched his drone to annoy a now pretty much alone and altogether angrier Wasea. "You guys are a terrible influence."

"Aww, Shepard, I'm touched," laughed Jack as she launched another biotic blast to take out the growing air traffic of biotic enhancing toxic sludge. The room was beginning to fill with clusters of the hazy gas. One container landed close to the human psychopath, covering her from head to toe and, more importantly, pissing her the fuck off. With a growl, the biotic built up a huge charge, the energies swirling around her like an angry storm, and sent them surging forward towards the mercenary leader, screaming profusely. "YOU DIE NOW!"

The last remaining asari in the room attempted to stand against the storm of biotic rage, but her fatigue from constantly using her own powers and the sheer strength of the push knocked the mercenary off her feet and sent her flying into a stack of crates at the end of the room. The onslaught of biotic energy had knocked many loose objects into the debris, including the data pad, which most likely held the ship manifests and had formally been sitting on top of Wasea's desk. As the Commander neared the rubble, he noticed it lying behind a pair of crates; it seemed to be in one piece. Bending over to grab it, he noticed some movement under the wreckage.

The asari's upper torso stuck out from under a crate, and was still very much alive. She was attempting to wriggle out from her confinement, most likely to continue her attempts at killing them.

"Correction," observed the ex-Spectre coldly as he walked over to Wasea and placed his gun against her temple. The Carnifax boomed once. "You die now."

Moving back over to where Jack, who was currently attempting to wipe off some of the contaminants, the engineer offered her a towel that he always kept on his person.

"Thanks," she replied, her tone immensely calmer as she wiped off her face.

"Don't mention it."

"You know, Shepard, sometimes you even scare me with how much of a cold hearted bastard you can be," admitted the convict surprisingly.

"Well, just be glad that you only have to deal with that side of me when people are shooting at my squad mates," replied the Commander cheerily, his sarcasm and levity coming out to play once more.

"Speaking of squad mates, good luck with that," the biotic replied as she gestured towards Grunt before starting to walk off. "I need a fucking drink."

The humanoid was currently making due on his promise, and the sight, was horrific to say the least. That was both the good and the bad thing about the krogan. He always made good on his word.

"Grunt… I don't envy whoever gets to clean up your messes," stated the Commander sadly as he turned to leave the room. "Now… let's see… I promised you a meal…"

**OOOO**

"…There I was, my squad dead, and cut off from any escape," told Garrus, getting into his own story. He'd been keeping the Spartan in the conversation, if only by a thread, but it was enough. The Chief had even deigned to throw a word in here and there, practically the equivalent of a novel's worth of answers if the social interaction had been about anything but fighting. "So, being the first thing to come to mind, I completely locked down all entrances and exits to my base, except one. It was a nice long stretch of corridor, a possible design flaw in the creation of the space station maybe, but I wasn't going to argue. It was a perfect-"

"Kill zone," interjected the Master Chief, finishing the sentence for the grizzled turian. The armored human had yet to remove his helmet. The water on the counter beside him still stood untouched, much to the annoyance of Matriarch Aethyta, who, despite herself, had still chosen to not comment on it. "Smart."

_Two sentences? Damn he's getting brave,_ thought Garrus sarcastically, but all in all it was a good thing. He was getting the stoic soldier to open up, even if it was but the smallest of fractions. It was better than nothing. "Exactly what I thought. So they send a few probes my way, and I make sure to allow a few to get back to spread the word. They were scared. Course, I'd probably have been scared of me too if they'd had that kind of advantage."

"He paused for a moment, but the boasting received no comment. None of his attempts at jokes had. Honestly he hadn't expected them to, but it didn't hurt to try. As Joker might have put it, the Master Chief was a stick in the mud, if that's how that particular human expression went.

"They tried to wait me out, and I'd take some pot shots at the adventurous ones, just to keep them honest. After I don't know how long, they finally get it into their heads that I wasn't going to go away so easily so-"

"Oh, heyyy, Garrus," interrupted a voice behind him.

_Damn_, thought the Turian frustratingly. He knew that voice. Spirits, did he know it. She was the exact wrong person to show up at this moment. Turning around, he greeted the Normandy biotic. "Hello, Jack."  
"Geeze, no need to sound so fucking depressed," replied the convict gracefully as she ordered a drink. Luckily for him, the Matriarch disliked the psychopath… immensely. After downing a glass of blue liquid in one gulp, the biotic seemed to finally notice the Chief sitting silently at the bar. "Well, if it isn't the fucking devil himself. Watcha drinking, pint size?"

The Spartan, instantly clamming up from whatever minimal social setting that he had made it to with Garrus, only shrugged in response. It was perhaps one of the worst moves to make. The turian had spent far too long on the Normandy with the psychopath, and the first thing he'd learned was to not be intentionally dismissive to her. It just made her angry, or angrier, depending on her reference state of mind.

"Is this water?" continued the biotic as she grabbed the glass, which was overjoyed to finally be used, and inspected the contents. "It is! What are you? A pussy? Don't have the balls to handle an actual drink?"

_Hasn't she learned this lesson already?_ thought the turian sulkily as he did his best to inconspicuously move out of the two's way. He didn't owe either of them any favors, though if push came to shove he'd have most likely sided with the Chief. Speaking of whom, the Spartan hadn't even bothered to respond to the deceptively tiny woman's newest barrage of questions. The enhanced biotic was looking for a fight.

"Answer me, damnnit," growled Jack as she shook a purple ringed fist in the air in front of the armored human. For a second, the giant man turned his gaze towards Garrus, who, by innate stealth and his own machinations, had managed to move a few feet out of the way while seeming to just sit casually on his stool. Noticing his attention the turian made sure to give him his best "She's not my responsibility" look. Turning back to the now fuming biotic, the Spartan maintained his silence. "What? You think you're all big and bad cause you jumped me in zero-g's? You ain't shit! I WILL DESTROY YOU!"

However, before Jack could attack, even before the Master Chief could neutralize her, Matriarch Aethyta blindsided the overaggressive biotic with a stasis, trapping the small woman in place with powerful mass effect fields. The convict's head was the only part kept out of the lock, and it attempted to make up for a whole body's worth of rage. Her shrieks scaring away several bar patrons.

"Can it, unless you'd like me to make you into my new throw rug," threatened the Matriarch. She was not amused. "Your tattoos would go great with my couch."

The danger seemed to have a sobering effect on the human biotic, ceasing her struggles almost immediately.

"Good. Now I'm going to let you out of here and you're going to go back to your ship, understood?" reasoned the Aethyta, her voice still holding a threat. As the convict nodded, the asari released the stasis, allowing Jack to drop to the ground. The look she received was adorable in its sincerity to deliver vengeance, but it was merely the last salvo from a defeated animal. Turning to regard the Chief, the matriarch continued. "You can go to, canner. You're driving away the customers and destroying my stools."

Nodding in compliance or thanks, the Spartan got up and walked off, his chair groaning in relief. That left only Garrus.

"I'm guessing you want me to close out my tab?" asked the turian, already knowing the answer to the question.

"It would help." The asari slid him the bill, immediately causing him to do a double take.

"Fifty credits for water? What the hell is this?" questioned Garrus angrily. This was just highway robbery.

"I don't like giving anyone a drink and not having them use it," replied Aethyta simply. "You don't have a problem with it… do you?"

"… No," answered the ex-C-Sec officer as he fished around for a credit chit. However at that moment the chair that the Spartan had been sitting in gave out, its limits had been strained for too long. "So… eighty more creds then?"

**OOOO**

_I knew Grunt could eat a lot, but that just seemed ridiculous_, thought the Commander as he walked into the Normandy mournfully thinking back to the amount of credits he had before he decided to be nice to the krogan. Oh well, he knew that Tali was on board, and Shepard was eager to have a nice long chat with her. However, that dream was short lived as Miranda stepped out of the elevator and straight into his path, not moving.

"Commander, I have the unfortunate need to ask for your help…"

_This ought to be good._

**Next Chapter: Chapter 8 – The Parent Trap**

**So, I hope you guys liked this chapter. I know I enjoyed writing it. As I said above, if you having anything to say, anything at all, whether it is a critique, an idea, or a question, just review. I take every review to heart and reread them when I get writer's block. Anyways, until next time. **

**Gatekeeper**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey I finally finished the chapter. *looks at calendar* …. Shit… remind me to never set myself on a deadline again. That was foolish, and I won't do it again. Once more, I couldn't stop writing and rewriting this damnable chapter. It ended up being over 20,000 words in its entirety… so this is what I'm going to do. I will split the chapter up into 2 or 3 segments and post another one the following day. I am doing this, because, well frankly, it helps the overall effect of the chapter, and keeps it from being too long all at once. Also, I am trying to implement a bit of seriousness that has been lacking in chapters as of late. **

**So, I want you to be critical of me in this chapter. If you don't like what I'm doing, please say so because otherwise I will continue to add little bits like this in.**

** Anyways, I've talked too long. I hope you enjoy the chapter.**

"I believe that one defines oneself by reinvention. To not be like your parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself. To cut yourself out of stone." 

**Chapter 8: Part 1** **– The Parent Trap**  
**Disclaimer – **I do not own mass effect or halo…. If I did I would have pushed for a crossover game :P

_On the streets of Earth's many sprawling cities, it was an unwritten law that those that didn't conform to the laws of the streets suffered for their __naivety__. Many of the street orphans who had run from their orphanages or foster homes learned this fact all too quickly. However, a slim few always managed to avoid this lesson at first; they were considered the lucky ones, the untouched. They were those who thrived in the dark alleys, side streets, and slums of the cities and in the expansive metropolis of Detroit, James and Jane Shepard flourished._

_The fraternal twins were inseparable; even when they were young, even when their parents died, and even more when both realized that they would rather take their chances on the streets then the homes. The siblings were a team, prospering and__burgeoning____where others met failure. They were rulers of the roads, monarchs of mischief, bringers of bad-assery, if one were to be dramatic in describing them. _

…Commander?...

_But, sadly, all reigns, whether evil or benign, eventually came to an end._

…Commander…

**OOOO**

"Commander!?" snapped Miranda again, finally breaking Commander Shepard from his reverie. Her eyebrow was arched in mild irritation. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

"I-er-what? Yes," blurted out Shepard as he blinked several times to bring himself back to reality and away from bad memories.

"Really?" replied the perfect woman doubtfully, arms crossing. Her eyebrow rose even higher, as if she were pulling back a mental trigger, and one thing the human engineer knew for certain, he didn't feel like seeing what was in the chamber.

"Genetic twin, father bad (in fact father bastard), joined Cerberus, freed sister, hid sister, everyone happy except father, father back, sister danger, father bad. Did I miss anything?" spewed forth the Commander, accurately stating the gist of the scenario. His characteristic smile, smothered in a heaping dosage of smug, lay plastered upon his face. He was glad that at least some small part of his brain had stayed to take notes as the rest was launched far into the past at the slightest mention of 'twin sister.' The Cerberus biotic's brow moved even higher, and the ex-Spectre was mildly worried that it would soon achieve lift off. _She has the muscle control of a snake_. "What?"

"Commander, I don't think you understand the severity of the matter," answered the experienced operative after a few moments, her tone suggesting that anger, that dastardly emotion that wore black robes and sat in a large throne-like swivel chair, had assumed direct control.

"Oh, I understand damn well," countered Shepard, the veteran soldier's face and voice dropping all pretenses of levity, instantly replaced with cold severity. He didn't know why he had let himself become so suddenly infuriated, the engineer normally liked to keep an air of happiness, or at the very least satire, about his person, a process he had dubbed counter-Miranda-ing. As well informed as the biotic was, she couldn't possibly know, none of the crew knew about pre-Alliance Shepard, but damnit if it didn't piss him off all the same. James sighed for a moment when he realized that the biotic was most likely perplexed by his sudden and vehement protest. Taking a deep, calming breath, the Commander repositioned his idyllic facade to put her at ease. "I'll do all I can to help. When does your contact want to meet?"

"Within the hour, if possible, Shepard. She asked me to meet her at the Eternity bar."

"Well, that doesn't really leave me much room to clean my armor, now does it?" His N7 combat skin smelled fiercely of biotic enhancing substances, dead mercs, and krogan food. Of course, the fare in all honesty, probably consisted of failed mercenaries in some way, so the smell had soylently come full circle with respects to origin. A slight shiver ran down his spine just thinking about his recent trip to the 'Hungry Hungry Krogan' restaurant. He could have sworn some of the food moved when he wasn't looking. "This is your op. Who else would you like to come with us?"

"The Master Chief," provided the Cerberus Operative immediately. Her lack of hesitation was surprising, making it the engineer's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Oh?" asked the Commander, intrigued that she would so quickly ask for the Spartan's help. "Do I need to call that babysitter?"

"Please, Commander. I'm not Jack or Grunt. I learned from my mistakes," replied Miranda, remembering quite well a conversation they had had all too recently.

"Fine, if you say so," countered the ex-Spectre, not entirely convinced, but wanting to go up to his quarters too much to really care. Stepping into the elevator, the veteran engineer thought of one last thing to say. "Oh, and you get to tell him he's coming."

"Excuse me?" For the ex-soldier, stepping into an elevator was akin to flipping the switch on his proverbial schaudenfreude impulse. His natural conclusion to this strange phenomenon was that all elevators are inherently and irrevocably evil, and studies have yet to prove otherwise.

"Make sure to ask nicely," stated Shepard, turning to ensure that his smile was the last thing she saw before the doors closed.

**OOOO**

_Bloody ass, _thought the Cerberus Operative as she waited for the elevator to come back down to the CIC level. The Commander always had to try to get the last word in on her, annoying the biotic to no end. He was, however, one of the best men for the job, and, although he sometimes took great pains to see her squirm, she'd learned to take his offhand comments for what they were, playful barbs. The ex-Spectre liked to keep people off balance with his sarcastic attitude and overly-happy exterior, but this was just a cover, something Miranda had only come to fully understand recently.

Cracks in his emotional camouflage had begun to appear in current weeks, most often in the heat of battle where the veteran human dropped all other pretenses, showing the blizzard that lay beneath to any who knew enough about him to notice. It unnerved her, more than she cared to willingly admit to any other sentient being. Oh, he knew when his mask slipped, and the engineer tried to slam the façade back into place to keep the others from worrying. The replacement, however, never managed to reach his eyes, those orbs that held such seething cold fury. It always caused the Normandy's second in command to wonder what had happened in the ex-Spectre's undocumented, younger years, those crucial developmental stages. The biotic had tried to uncover his pre-Alliance past, two years spent putting Shepard back together had all but warranted this intrusion into his privacy, but her inquires had always come back empty handed. His military career she could have written a book on, several even, however, before that the Cerberus information expert had all of four words, 'Grew up on Earth.' She had even tried asking him about his life on humanity's homeworld and had quickly learned to never do so again after receiving his answering glare

The elevator dinged and opened wide its welcoming maw, startling Miranda from her internal dialogue. There was a time and a place for such puzzles and this was neither. Her sister needed her help, even if she didn't know it, and the biotic would be damned if she didn't have the very best help for her task.

**OOOO**

"Why?" asked the Chief simply as he stared down at a glaring Miranda. There was just something about this woman that gave her an air that walked up and smacked you in the face with a whole lot of 'You're going to do what I say despite how you feel about it.' The Spartan took the smallest amount of satisfaction that he could resist.

"Why what?" replied the biotic continuing to stare directly into his visor. It seemed that all of their conversations were destined to eventually devolve into staring matches.

"This is your mission," stated the hulking man flatly, leaving the 'Why do you need my help' unsaid, but implied. From his observations, the Cerberus Operative didn't like anything about him and despised the fact that he had kept his tech to himself. It didn't matter though, he could work with her or anyone, really, the key factor was whether she could or not.

"You're easily one of the best assets the Normandy has to offer," answered the relatively small woman coolly. She wasn't lying, but it must have been hard for her to admit. "I settle for nothing but the best."

"_We think someone needs to mess with her computers. You know… give her an… off day_," chided Cortana mockingly within the confines of his helm. "_Now if only there was some sentient program ready and willing to take her down a peg or two… oh yeah… us_."

"Cortan-"

"_Just give the word, Chief, and we can make her electronic life a living hell,_" interrupted the A.I.; she never wanted to listen at first.

"No," stated John evenly, taking great strides not to sound overly disapproving.

"_Why the hell not?_" demanded his electronic friend with all the subtlety of a rampaging brute. "_That uppity bitch treats you like you're just another piece of meat. Just one more for the grinder._"

"Many in the UNSC saw us this way…," countered the armored man quietly. He didn't like having extended arguments with Cortana, especially when she was still in such a chaotic state. "I don't mind… no hacking her."

"_Fine… fine… we were just trying to help_," abated the A.I. disappointedly, she was itching to put her skills to the test once more. A fight would do her good if everything didn't go as planned. "_Well then, if you don't want us messing with her, then you should probably give Princess an answer… wouldn't want to keep her waiting too long…_"

Suddenly, the Master Chief became painfully aware of two important facts. One, that the incessant tapping that he had been hearing during his side conversation with Cortana was Miranda's foot, which, at its current velocity, could have put a nail through the flooring. And, two, said appendage was unfortunately attached to a body that was entirely unused to waiting. This also gave rise to the idea that the foot was not really so much tapping as attempting to dig a hole through the floor in an effort to escape from an increasingly irate Cerberus Operative. Its attempts, so far, seemed wholly unsuccessful.

"I'll help," answered the Chief finally.

"Excellent," replied the biotic somewhat cheerfully. The foot, having sensed an immediate withdrawal of hostile emotions, ceased its oscillating journey, pivoted, and proceeded to carry the rest of the body back from whence it came. "Meet us at the airlock in half an ho-OW!"

A spark suddenly flew from Miranda's omni-tool, shockingly interrupting her mid order. The Cerberus biotic continued on her way towards the elevator, tossing the immobile Spartan a quick suspicious glance along the way. It took the Chief less than a moment, which has been scientifically proven to equal the exact amount of time it takes to club a Keebler elf, to figure out what had happened.

"Cortana…?"

"_What? We had to get it out of our system_…"

**OOOO**

"… this won't take long, I promise," answered Shepard gruffly as he proceeded along the peaceful Illium pathways trying to not further anger the Cerberus Operative storming angrily behind him.

"This could easily be accomplished after the mission, Commander," argued Miranda emphatically, actively attempting to undermine his authority in the manner most commonly referred to as a guilt trip. It was only natural for her to be angry at the moment; she just wanted to start her damned operation. She was completely entitled to stating her disapproving opinion on the matter, at least, that's what the human engineer kept reminding himself. The Master Chief glided quietly behind the two, calmly listening in on the exchange, but offering no input.

"It's on the way," countered the veteran soldier, angry despite his outward demeanor. At times, arguing with the biotic was like trying to keep a small dog from barking and biting at your heels, there was no winning for anyone and eventually something got kicked "accidentally".

"Shepard… Eternity is that way," pointed out the raven haired woman darkly as the trio reached the stairs that led up to Liara's office. At this stage it seemed almost futile to argue, being as they were already here, but the Cerberus agent never seemed willing to give up.

"Right, and after I meet with Liara we will be heading there… which makes this on the way," replied the ex-Spectre calmly, his argument technically correct enough to give Miranda a few seconds of pause which resulted in the squad continuing the rest of the way up the stairs in unarguing silence. "Besides, we could be dead after this mission…. So lighten up."

Feeling satisfied in his ability to obfuscate the human biotic, Shepard made his way to the reception desk, where, as always, Nyxeris was stationed with all the poise and posture of any asari.

"She is expecting you, Commander," stated the assistant casually, not even bothering to look up from her work. He hated when she did that. She predicted who was coming up to her desk without fail, which caused several of the engineer's preconceived notions about the asari not really having telepathy to be thrown into the realm of doubt.

"Why don't you two wait out here," suggested the ex-Spectre as he moved past Nyxeris and towards the office door. "Oh, and try to play nice."

Once through the threshold, the veteran human was confronted with a hard at work Liara, which, at the very least wasn't really a surprise. The asari had always been a workaholic, now, she just happened to deal with the information trade, not artifacts, oh, and sending kill squads every now again. He had never thought that the sweet and innocent archeologist he had known two years ago could turn into the fearsome businesswoman she was today.

"Shepard, it's good to see you again," stated Liara as she finally emerged from her work, getting up to greet her friend personally. "I'm glad you could come to see me on such short notice."

"Well, I assumed it must have been pretty important for you to call me back so quickly after my last visit," retorted the Commander honestly. "And, if I were to assume that, then I would also guess that you need something or someone 'taken care of.'"

"Short and sweet as ever, Shepard," replied the pale blue skinned asari with a half-smile as she walked over to her desk and filled two waiting cups with a strange, but most certainly alcoholic, liquid. "But if you are interested in helping, I could use someone with hacking expertise… someone I can trust."

"Just message me when and where and I'll do my best," answered James Shepard quickly, knowing that Miranda was growing more and more anxious by the second.

"Of course," answered the asari information broker as she offered the Commander a glass, which he politely accepted. The two stood casually in silence for a few seconds before Liara continued abruptly. "…. It's still weird… isn't it?"

"I just can't get over the whole mind flaying people thing," admitted the Commander finally after a moment's self-collection, taking an absentminded sip of his drink. "It's a bit of a sobering thought."

"We've been over this, Shepard," replied the asari exasperatedly, kneading her forehead for added effect. The hum of the cars zipping past her office window began to rise to a low drone. "I've had to adapt."

"I know," countered the ex-Spectre quickly, knowing that the horse in this particular conversation had been beaten to death several times over. Coincidentally, this is the reason why circular logic fundamentalists should maintain their distance from horses with a penchant for reanimation. Note: the previous statement does in no way endorse malicious attacks against necrotically inclined thoroughbreds. "So much has changed in the last two years. I guess I'm still playing catch-up."

"I understand, Goddess, do I understand," stated Liara sincerely as she took a hesitant step forward to place a reassuring hand on the weary combat engineer's shoulder. "But just because we've grown doesn't mean we're different people. There's just more to the story."

"Careful, Liara," warned Shepard mockingly, the joke never reaching his steel grey eyes. "You get any wiser; they're going to end up dragging you back to Thessia to hold council."

"I'm being serious, Shepard," replied the blue woman, the uncontrollable smile that had appeared unbidden onto her face serving only to undercut her argument.

"I was afraid of that," rebutted the ex-Spectre expediently, any pretense of a gag continuing to fail to reach his gaze. She was taken slightly aback by his statement; the veteran soldier could easily see that. Part of him wanted to reassure her that that had just been an offhand comment, but he'd be lying if he did. With a sigh, the Commander continued, breaking the pregnant pause that had grown in lieu of the conversation. "I'll take a look into this little dilemma of yours. Who knows, maybe this old dog still has a few tricks."

"Thank you, Shepard," answered the information broker somewhat distantly, as if she had glimpsed something she shouldn't have. Her tone had undertaken the businesslike transformation once again. "I have the utmost faith that you will get the job done. You were always good with tech."

"It's a gift," replied the talented human engineer, not so much attempting to leave the room with a little levity as trying to convince himself. As he made his way back to his squad, the mission at hand laid squarely in his mind, his forced smile faltered with an unbidden thought. _Or a curse…_

**OOOO**

_James had always had a way with technology; his sister had even gone so far as to call it a talent. The male Shepard, however, didn't know how to truly describe it; the devices just spoke to him, whether they were mechanical, hardwired, or digital. It didn't matter, and the boy, fast becoming a man, was quick to take advantage of it. By the age of twelve, he had finally stolen enough parts to make his own custom omni-tool, boosting his already tremendous advantage to now soaring heights. The terminals here in the slums were not exactly highly protected, and were in fact child's play if that child was, of course, a natural cyber sage. Despite his obvious abilities, however, James still had his moments of trial and error, the trial often being "Hmmm__I wonder what would happen if…" and the error involving mostly running from various gang members or authorities… sometimes both._

_That's where Jane came in. She ran the interference. The other Shepard knew how to whip a crowd into a panic. In fact, if she had__become____more renowned in her exploits, and if said escapades had been documented, her tactics would have easily impressed seasoned terrorists into saying "Well that's not fair." She was his guardian angel, or devil, if the opinions of her victims had any weight in the matter._

_They were the perfect team, keeping each other alive and fed through their careful preparation and quick feet. It was not always the best living, at many times the word living had to be used loosely, but the twins had a plan for everything. By____the time they were__just____shy of eighteen by most solar calendars, the siblings finally had an idea to escape the slums, The Alliance. They had seen the extranet vids, a new fresh start to any who joined, and the promises of steady food, clothing, and a place to belong were too good for the fraternal twins to pass up. And so, they prepared one final job, one last hurrah to see them both into their new lives._

**OOOO**

At times, living on the Normandy, both its previous and current incarnations, proved very strenuous for Tali. There were so many open areas, so few people, not to mention the overall silence of the ship. The quarian engineer, who had only been back with the Flotilla for a few short years since her pilgrimage ended, honestly missed some of the aspects of the migrant life she had long ago grown accustomed to. The nomadic alien could easily list off a number of reasons why she should simply hitch a ride with the nearest shuttle back to her people, but she never would, no matter how many times the engineer had thought it. Hell, the fact that Cerberus owned and populated a large portion of the vessel alone could have set the quarian on edge, not to mention the A.I., but it always boiled down to pretty much one singular reason, Shepard.

The Commander had always been there for her, even when he had been presumed… known to be dead, as if it was simply second nature to him. Tali had never met a human so ready to help others, often at his own expense. The young quarian could even swear she could peer through the ex-Spectre's sarcastic barrier at times and see the kind heart that lay beneath. The engineer knew it was there, even when he admonished her for her belief, actually, especially when Shepard did that. He wasn't half the bad man he wanted others to think he was. And, so, the quarian tech expert would follow him, unto death itself if need be. But, depressing thoughts aside, until that moment happened Tali had an urgent need to stay busy. There was only so much she could improve on with the Normandy's drive core without taking it apart and rebuilding it, so in order to stave off stints of boredom, she had taken to giving herself missions. The tasks ranged anywhere from meeting new people onboard the Normandy to attempting to find all the listening/surveillance equipment in Engineering. This particular mission had been dubbed 'Find that bosh'tet Garrus who had forgotten about their dinner plans and hadn't bothered to tell her'. If there was someone else who tied her to the Normandy other than Shepard, it was Garrus, but at the moment the turian was trying her patience. The pair had eaten together most nights since she had come aboard, it made sense being as they shared a similar dextro-amino acid based digestive system. The quarian engineer loved her patterns, and that damned sniper had just messed up one. Well, he was about to learn that a quarian was quite capable of dragging him back to the dining area.

The only problem was to find him, and Tali refused to ask the A.I. for anything, especially when it attempted to be nice and helpful on its own. Luckily for her, there were plenty of humans around that could have seen him, and, walking casually up to the currently under construction kitchen, the quarian decided to ask Rupert.

"No, I can't say I've seen him for the past few hours," drawled the Mess Sargent calmly. He was a kindly man; it was there in his attitude and stature, if a little devious in his cooking at times. Laid back and confident, nothing seemed to bother him. "But you may want to try the comms room. He tends to hang out in there during Shepard's missions."

"Thanks, Rupert," answered the quarian genuinely, actively trying to forget that the cook did in fact work for Cerberus. Tali couldn't help but have a natural inclination to hatred towards the shadowy organization, luckily for her, however, the full body enviro suit she was forced to wear hid her facial expressions rather well. Unfortunately, the aforementioned advantage did little to hide her body language, which, when she stepped through the armory and found a guard outside the comms room door, currently said "get out of my way."

"Ha-halt," stammered the lone sentinel, raising a hand to bar her path. "Password?"

"Password? It's the comms room. I don't need a password," stated the female quarian flatly. The watchman was young, perhaps the youngest on the Normandy, and, for the life of her, Tali could not remember his name. This fact would have disturbed her greatly if she hadn't remembered that he was a part of Cerberus. Now the youthful male was just another faceless aspect of that horrible organization, and the engineer would be damned if she let him get in her way. As she was preparing to lay into the poor man with a choice verbal assault, however, the door slid open and a familiarly spined head popped out.

"Relax, Phil, she's one of us," droned Garrus casually as he beckoned the quarian inward. The young guard relaxed as Tali strode by and into the communications room, the threshold hissing shut just as quickly as it had opened. "Sorry for the muscle outside-"

"It's the comms room," interrupted the engineer, slightly miffed that the former vigilante hadn't apologized to her yet.

"We just have to make sure no undesirables manage to find this room… mainly Miranda," continued the turian, seemingly oblivious to the female quarian's annoyance. The spined alien had brought a few portable terminals into the chamber and had already proceeded to get back to 'work'.

"Garrus," stated Tali somewhat angrier than what she had initially planned as she positioned herself between the Archangel and his beloved work stations. "It's the comms room…"

"Well... on most days you would be right," admitted the turian, smiling as only his species could. "But…"

"Keh'lah, please tell me you didn't finally do it," groaned the quarian engineer as she ground a hand into her faceplate. Realization had finally dawned and she was not happy at how the day had turned out.

"The Normandy now has 'officially' attained its own betting room," finished the scarred turian proudly, spreading his arms out for added effect as if expecting thunderous applause and praise, but Tali proceeded to give neither. "Brought to you by yours truly."

"With a little help," added a chipper voice suddenly from behind the engineer, startling the technical expert into turning and drawing her pistol to face absolutely nothing. After a few confusing seconds a shimmer appeared in the air, revealing the Normandy's resident thief, Kasumi Goto. Of course, more often than not, the hooded woman preferred the term 'aggressive borrower'. "There you go, taking all the credit, again."

"I'm just centralizing the credit so you can steal it later," countered the sniper instantaneously, belying that they had had this argument before. Their levity, however, had yet to calm the flustered engineer who had yet to meet Kasumi face to face. Luckily, Garrus had known Tali long enough to read her moods and quickly came to the rescue. "Tali, this is Kasumi. Kasum-"

"We've met," interrupted the thief casually, prompting the quarian to give her best 'excuse me?' expression. "Well… I met you. You were asleep."

The silence that followed that particular statement was not only heavy enough to achieve its own gravitational field and pull in a large moon of awkwardness, but to trap light as well.

"That came out wrong, didn't it?" asked the unauthorized borrower tentatively after pausing for a few moments.

"You really need to stop stealthing around on the Normandy," suggested Garrus with a sigh, scratching his scars in frustration.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," replied the quarian despite her mental decision to upgrade Chikita's scanners. The comment seemed to satisfy the thief, and, with a smile, she spun out towards the door, humming slightly. As she watched the skinny human slink away, Tali leaned in to whisper to the still scratching turian. "She doesn't care what we think… does she?"

"Not in the slightest," answered the former vigilante in a flanged deadpan. "I'd keep a running log of what you brought onboard. She has a habit of… 'misplacing things.'"

Before Tali could respond, however, a pleasant ding emanated from one of the terminals and a horde of the Normandy's inhabitants stormed into the room. As the quarian engineer recovered from the sudden influx of bodies, she noticed most of the day to day Cerberus personnel had already begun to form a queue in front of Garrus, who, by some mystical feat had managed to suddenly appear in front of the betting terminal. That turian always knew how to be in the center of the action, but this wasn't her world. However, as she turned to leave, the quarian found a wall of flesh and armor barring her path.

"Er, sorry, Grunt," stated Tali quickly stepping out of the krogan's path as he moved towards the burgeoning line, answering her only with a throaty growl. One thing she had learned in working with Wrex was to stay out of a krogan's way, and the tech expert had yet to make an infraction. Satisfied that she wouldn't run into anyone else, the quarian headed for the door, but a yell from behind caused her to turn once more.

"Where are you going, Tali?" shouted Garrus as he elbowed his way across the room to his friend, receiving a few grumbles of disapproval from those who wanted to get in their bets before the mission started. "It's about to start."

"What's about to start?" asked the engineer slightly annoyed, taking the veteran turian by surprise. "Our friends are about to put their lives on the line and all we're going to do is wager on how they do? How many people they kill? IS that the 'it' you're talking about?"

"Well when you put it like that…" replied the ex-vigilante, trailing off slightly. It was only at that moment that Tali noticed how silent the comms room had become during her outburst.

_Keh'lah, do they all have to stare?_ thought the migrant xeno exasperatedly. She could see the haunted look in some of those eyes. The overarching mission against the Collectors had taken a toll on all of them, some more than others. They needed something to take their minds off the worries about their loved ones, and, although this system may not be the most thought out or ethically correct plan, it was one of the few escapes that they had. After a few more moments of silence, the quarian engineer looked up at the holographic picture of the projections and made up her mind. "I've got twenty on Shepard shocking himself."

**OOOO**

"…. You do realize that those are gunships, right?" interjected the Commander casually as he inspected his heavy pistol. The veteran engineer had not been entirely pleased with the whole 'Let's be a decoy' part of the plan, and had subsequently set about cycling through his weapons like an OCD gunnery sergeant. The Chief calmly sat in the cramped space at the back of the car, a mattock assault rifle held gently with his hands.

"Precisely, and they'll be dropping troops all over the cargo areas. I would prefer if none of them came close to my sister," countered Miranda coolly as she positioned the car directly behind the convoy of mechanized destroyers. The trio had spotted the ships almost immediately after reaching the Illium docking yards, the eclipse markings and weaponry a dead giveaway in the public traffic. However, immediately after establishing herself as the group's tail, the warships dove off to the right towards the ground. Mercenaries spewed out of the metal housings, their Eclipse uniforms making them look like some sort of terrifyingly large bee-variant as they took up positions around the cargo containers. Circling the site once to gauge their strengths, the Cerberus biotic brought the car into a descent that was as surreptitious as an asthmatic at a mime convention.

"So… we're just going to fly in there?" asked Shepard sarcastically, pulling out his heavy pistol as gunfire raked the light armor of the aerial vehicle.

"Yes… let's just hope they want to take us alive," replied Miranda simply as she began to focus more on the whole not dying aspect of the mission.

"While they're shooting at us?" continued the engineer as he took a spare thermal clip into his off hand. An explosion right outside of the cabin rocked the car, almost knocking the spare ammo out of the ex-Spectre's hand. "… With some questionably large hardware? So much for 'alive.'"

"That's the plan," affirmed the biotic, barely even paying attention at the moment. The ground was doing that funny thing where it approached faster than planned.

"Some plan," grumbled the veteran soldier as he realized he had nothing left to fiddle with. Thankfully, the Master Chief continued to sit calmly in the back, offering no protest in the slightest; the Commander was saying enough for the both of them. The explosions and gunfire had abruptly fallen off, but that had only accentuated the car landing too quickly problem.

"From experience I can already tell this is better than half of your bloody plans," countered Miranda, the engineer's previous barb somewhat breaking through her concentration enough for a slight spike of anger. The vehicle slammed once onto the metallic ground, hopped, and then slid to a screeching, grinding halt, tilting slightly into the air.

"Well… you could have at least honked at them," answered the Commander as the car's roof lifted upward, allowing the trio to jump out of the now flaming piece of transportation. A mercenary, glowing from his tech armor, walked casually forward to greet them, his smugness all but confirming his status as the squad's XO.

_Always gets the last word_, thought the Cerberus Agent with a small smile as she turned to face the incoming hostile. The arrogance apparent on the mercenary Lieutenant's face was already causing the biotic to file him under the 'He dies first' category. Taking a moment to collect herself, Miranda moved forward to greet the sneering dead man, Shepard and the Master Chief positioning themselves around her. "Since you're not firing, I trust you know who I am?"

"Yeah. They said you were coming," replied the soldier of fortune bluntly, a second mercenary quickly moving up to join him. "You're the bitch that kidnapped our boss' little girl."

"Kidnapped?" stated the biotic angrily, a scowl forming upon her lips. She could feel the Commander's gaze the moment the merc mentioned 'little girl', but she had to continue to focus. "I suggest you take your men and go while you're still able to walk."

"Think you've got it all lined up, huh?" countered the Lieutenant, leaning in closer for added effect. He was almost within striking distance and God help him if he actually crossed that line. "Captain Enyala's already moving in on the kid. She knows about Niket… He won't be helping you."

"_Sharpshooters in firing positions_," whispered the Chief quietly over the comms, however the Cerberus Information Expert barely heard him. She was shocked that they could possibly know about Niket as well.

"What do you mean, Niket won't be helping her?" asked the Commander after waiting a few moments to see if Miranda would respond.

"Nothing you need to worry about. Nobody's going to get killed unless you do something stupid," answered the merc lieutenant condescendingly as he waved for them to be off. "You walk away now, the girl goes back to her father, and everybody's happy."

"Everybody but my sister and me," snapped the biotic vehemently, not caring to hold a serene mask any longer. They were threatening her sister, and she was going to make them pay. "Where's this Enyala? I want to speak to her."

"You don't want to talk to the captain. She's not as polite as I am," answered the merc smugly, taking another inadvisable step forward. He had just passed into arms reach, also known as the danger zone, leading the Cerberus biotic to conclude he was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. "She's the best commando I've ever seen. I've seen her tear people in half with her biotics. And she's getting paid a lot to stop you."

The man even took a moment to press a sole finger into the Commander's breastplate to emphasize his coming statement.

_Okay, we'll go with incredibly stupid. _"If she gets in my way, she'll never have a chance to spend it," stated Miranda clearly, her tone frosty. "Whatever you're being paid, it's not nearly enough."

"I'm giving you one chance to leave," interjected Shepard smoothly, his eyes taking on that dangerous glint that they normally had when he began to contemplate mayhem. "That's more than most get."

"Funny… Captain ordered us to give you one chance to walk away. But this whole time we've been talking, my men have been lining up shots," replied the Lieutenant skeptically, obviously and mistakenly, thinking that he was in control of the situation. He believed that they had them outnumbered, but, as far as the Cerberus Operative was concerned, the handful of Eclipse personnel in the room was already dead. "When I say the word, we unleash hell on your squad. So I suggest you walk away nicely, unl-"

The entirely unlucky, but altogether not-undeserving, mercenary swiftly found his head pivoted past a highly inadvisable angle of rotation, and, before the now dead man even had a chance to hit the ground, the ex-Spectre had also unleashed a powerful overload upon a large grouping of other mercs. The whole event took less than a second, shocking the rest of the eclipse mercs. Miranda and the Chief, however, seeing the momentary lapse in judgment by their would-be aggressors, rapidly opened fire.

While the Spartan settled on placing necessary superfluous holes in the temples of various stunned foes, the biotic had set her sights on the restraints of a very fortuitously positioned cargo container. Said crate was currently being hauled directly over the heads of the last handful of entrenched soldiers of fortune. With a loud creak, and several rounds to the suspending supports, the large container plummeted onto the surprised, and now flattened, merc remainder.

The entire exchange, minus the conversation with the uppity peon, had taken less than a minute, but to Miranda, who had already taken off towards the elevator at the far end of cargo deck, every second spent fighting these drones was a moment wasted. However, despite herself, the biotic couldn't help but take notice of all the neatly downed mercenaries that lay scattered around her as she passed them. Each and every one of them had an immaculate and identical pair of holes placed in the center of their heads.

_Two in each head. Crisp, clean, effective, and bloody scary_, thought the Cerberus Agent begrudgingly as she reached the elevator and waited for her squad mates to catch up. Seeing the pair jog side by side brought a funny thought to the surface of her mind. It was easy to forget how dangerous the Commander could be with his own unique blend of weaponry and silver tongue, because he always tried to pass it all off as luck. The Master Chief, on the other hand, radiated lethalness and made no attempt to hide it. Not by outward anger or shows of strength, although there had already been quite a few demonstrations of the latter. His was a calm, solemn, cold efficiency and an almost supernatural accuracy, the second having already left its mark on the biotic after only two missions with him. Both men were so utterly dissimilar in terms of personality, but place them on the battlefield and they seemed almost a matched set. Either one would not hesitate to finish the mission, no matter the cost; taking lives as if it were second nature. She couldn't have asked for a better team. _Then why am I shaking?_

Shepard brushed by her without even a glance as he opened the door to the elevator. He seemed to be more determined to succeed in this mission than even her; pleasant, but surprising nonetheless.

"…. _Team 4, do you read?"_

Looking down, Miranda noticed a radio just out of reach of a formerly alive salarian, who just hadn't been fast enough when diving into cover. He too bore the telltale signs of the Spartan's emotionless handiwork.

"Hold on, Commander, I've got one of their radios. I'll patch us in; see if I can get an idea of what we're up against." The veteran human only nodded in reply as he stood in the elevator with the Chief, waiting patiently for her to get in. The curt gesture was not lost on her as she strode over to join them. "Shepard…. I believe I owe you an explanation…"

"No, you don't," replied the ex-Alliance Marine surprisingly, as he pressed a button on the lift. His voice had taken on that all too familiar frosty undercurrent. "We're here to get your sister. This is your op. You don't have to answer a damn thing if you don't want to."

"I do, though," retorted the biotic, hiding her shock with a valid effort. There he went again, withdrawing so vehemently at even the hint of that six letter word. It didn't take a genius to know what was going on, but that particular strain of data was not helpful at the moment. She did, however, file it away in a rather large mental folder adequately dubbed, 'Bloody things I should know about this Damn Man.' "Oriana is my twin, genetically. But our father grew her when I was a teenager. She was to be my replacement…"

Miranda paused for a moment as the elevator began to rise; the whir of the motion had a calming effect on her nerves. After letting out a sigh, she continued, trying to forget how much she hated telling this story to anyone.

"But I couldn't let our father do to her what he did to me. So I rescued her." A small laugh escaped her lips as she realized how absurd the whole situation must seem to an outsider. "She's almost a woman now. The reason I didn't tell you… well… it didn't seem relevant at the time, I suppose."

"It still isn't," dismissed the ex-Spectre, as he casually leaned against the wall. A distant look had come over his eyes. "She's your sister. You're just trying to look after her best interests."

"You make it sound so cut and dry," replied the Cerberus Operative, partially amused.

"There is one thing that concerns me though," interjected Shepard as his eyes snapped back to focus on the present. "That merc mentioned Niket."

"If they got to him somehow, this is going to be harder than I'd planned," she stated dryly. That particular train of thought was not a pleasant one, but, after shaking her head to clear out the 'maybes' and 'what ifs', a plan began to formulate. "We should cut through the cargo processing yard. It's the quickest way to Oriana. Be careful though. We'll be moving through the conveyor systems. There'll be a lot of movement. Expect ambushes, blind corners, that sort of thing. Just stay sharp. Since this is Illium, there'll be a lot of hazardous, but 'legal' hardware... Expect anything."

"Yes, Ma'am," answered the veteran engineer with a mock salute, a small grin crept onto his face.

_And your cover is back in place_, thought the biotic wryly, silently thanking that the more annoying, but predictable Commander had come back. She was ready, but one last warning came to mind, however. "There are people who'd try to use Oriana against me – "

"They die first," interrupted the Master Chief in his characteristically gravelly voice as the elevator doors opened, the large human springing into through the opening, his rifle at the ready. Miranda had almost forgotten that he was even in the lift, a thought that would have utterly troubled her if she had not taken a second to remind herself who she was dealing with. The fact that the silent giant had even elected to speak at all was shocking, a detail that was not lost on Shepard.

"Well… you heard the man," laughed the ex-Spectre, an amused sort of bewilderment having taken control of his visage as he took the Spartan's cue.

_It seems I've found a soft spot in both of them_, thought the biotic's inner information broker as she followed, perfectly content with letting the two veterans take the lead. The rare glimpse of humanity from the armored behemoth calmed her nerves almost entirely, and prompted her inner information broker to scream at her to press for more data, her protective instincts, however, were quick to take back control and focus her on the mission at hand once more. From the sounds of gunfire that echoed from further up the cargo bay, it seemed like her squad mates had already found more mercs to shoot at. _Definitely the best men for the job._

**OOOO**

"Did you see that? Now that's style," bellowed Zaeed loudly as he took a swig of whatever concoction had currently taken up residence inside his flask. Of course, the man would be happy, or as far as the mercenary went, slightly less of a curmudgeon, he'd just made out with over 300 credits on a bet that, until a minute ago, had seemed quite improbable. "Over ten dead in under thirty seconds. That's a helluva way to start."

"It's nae fair, really," grumbled Kenneth, his eternal bad luck striking again. He had opted for the three minute mark, and had found himself severely disappointed. This did not, however, stop him from attempting to complain while he pointed at no one in particular. "Ye lot gie tae prance aroond wi' th' Commander aw th' time. It's cheatin' is whit it is."

"Lad, I've never bloody cheated in my life…," lied the soldier of fortune outright, a chorus of laughter echoed within the chamber in response.

Almost everyone was in the Comms room by now, even the reclusive Thane, which left only the newly recruited Samara not in attendance. The asari had expressly stated that she did not take part in gambling of any fashion, or, at least, that is what Garrus had said after he had tried to fetch her. Tali did not blame the Justicar for declining; even she didn't know why she was still here. She didn't normally like watching the ex-Spectre's missions; the quarian wasn't inherently a violent person, but something in the way that the Commander had disposed of a certain Eclipse talker drew her to remain. Of course, she had wanted to kill the smug bastard by the time he was done talking, but the Shepard she knew would have at least given the man a chance to fight.

She was watching intently now, actively ignoring anyone else in the room. The Commander she knew was in there somewhere, she just had look for it.

**OOOO**

These mercenaries, were by far, much more prepared then the Geth had been, of this, John-117 was certain. A duo of biotics had attempted take him out the moment he had rounded the corner, his weight and shields easily held against the force of that still foreign form of attack. The same, however, could not be said of the two overaggressive asari when the large human moved within reach. A combat knife to either's necks quickly ended their resistance. The brief fight, if the trouncing of the two aliens could be called that, however, had drawn the collective aggression of every merc in the bay. Said onlookers had quickly adopted an attitude of, 'Oh Shit', and opened fire on the large and highly lethal newcomer.

The Master Chief, his shields flashing, dove behind cover moments before some panicked rocket shots flew at his previous location, firing in retort as he arced through the air. The overwhelming response in firepower suggested that he had gained their utmost attention, much in the same way as a group of hunters, who had expected to be stalking pheasants, noticed instead a frothing silver-backed gorilla that had just charged out of the brush. Gazing at his radar, the Spartan noticed two forms charging towards his cover from the rear, but he paid them no heed. Despite their lack of IFF locational tags, the hulking man knew it was the Commander and Miranda. A trio of rockets slammed into the crates he had chosen as shelter, the explosions scattering debris everywhere, but, for the moment, the bulky containers held.

"_Not like it needs to be said, but it might be best if we don't stay here long_," interjected Cortana dryly as he leaned out from behind his concealment and took a few shots before another barrage of heavy ordinance forced him back. The blast didn't seem as effective as the M41 anti-vehicle launcher that he was used too, but his instincts thought better of trying his luck against the power. Curiosity, in this case, would not only have killed the cat, but left a scorching hole with the echo of a meow.

"Thanks for pissing them off," yelled Shepard sarcastically as he slammed into cover directly beside the Spartan, a determined look plastered across his features. "I don't think they even saw us."

The armored human grunted a small laugh, inaudible from outside his suit, and turned to fully take stock of the situation. The heavy weapons specialists had finally begun to work out a rhythm, leaving one missile in the air at any given time; admirable, but annoying. The other Eclipse members cycled in groups, firing at the trio, any of the gunmen immediately ducking the moment their shields blared. None of them were taking any chances, and they weren't nearly as bunched up as the group in the other bay had been. They were far more tactful then the geth had been, but with their current strategy, they would never kill the squad.

"_They don't have to win… technically,"_ suggested the A.I. helpfully, coming to the same conclusion that had struck the Chief only moments before. There were just under a score of mercenaries bunkered in at the other side of the bay, where the squad eventually needed to go. A conveyor system ran over their heads and in front, but all of the ordinance in the air at the moment seemed only liable to cause a headache. There wasn't much cover along the kill zone, either. He could most likely make it across, but that would only leave him in the middle of a crossfire. Mjolnir would be able to foot most of the bill, however, without the accessibility of a UNSC refit center at his disposal, his ability to repair what was arguably his second skin seemed null and void at the moment. "_Your synapses are showing higher volumes of traffic than usual… care to share?"_

They're stalling," stated the Chief aloud, continuing to monitor the mercenaries' lines for a kill chance instead of turning to the Commander. Cortana made a slight 'harrumph' noise in his ear, apparently jealous at not being the only one privy to his thoughts.

"And they've holed up right next to a couple of ammo crates," added Shepard in an annoyed tone. "Not much chance to wait them out… we could probably pick them off one at a tim-"

"While my father steals back my sister in the meantime," interrupted Miranda severely, emphasizing that they were indeed on a bit of a tight schedule. "I assume storming forward wouldn't do us much good?"

"Too much firepower directly in our faces," dismissed the ex-Spectre as he leaned around the Master Chief and attempted to place several large rounds from his Carnifax into any Eclipse Soldier that was daring enough to come out of cover for too long. "We'd take too much damage… even the Chief… most likely…. probably… well at the very least he would feel very sad at our passing… hopefully."

"_Now that the obvious has been stated and restated by our two supporting members let's think of something that doesn't involve mass amounts of bodily harm to you… and, by extension, us," _admitted Cortana sarcastically, a ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. He knew how badly she wanted to be able to say that to the Commander and Miranda; he was relieved that the A.I. continued to stay stable enough to remain hidden. Suddenly a mercenary popped his head out for a few moments too long and promptly sat back down without it, the barrel of the Spartan's Mattock glowing a dull orange.

"Think you two can keep them busy for me?" asked Sheppard suddenly as he began to slide off to the left. "I think I saw something useful over there."

"Yes, sir," answered John – 117 immediately as he poked out of cover to follow the order, trusting that the human engineer had a plan, or, at the very least, an interesting thought. Rockets and gunfire streamed toward him, the latter glancing off his shield harmlessly, but draining it nonetheless as he moved towards the grouping of cargo containers. Miranda, on the other hand, hesitated on the slightly vague order.

"Pardon?" she asked as she continued to hold her position at the original crates.

"You. Shoot. Me. Run," yelled back the Commander as he flashed the biotic a thumbs-up before he took off in the opposite direction, his voice echoing over the comms. "You. Take fire. Me. Stay Safe. Do manly things."

"Ass," replied the biotic gracefully as she unloaded enough rounds at the Eclipse members to remind them that the Spartan was, in fact, not the only threat in the bay. The mercenaries responded with a lovely bouquet of small arms fire topped with a rocket to atone for their discourteous error.

The Chief caught the Cerberus Operative's gaze as she hid further back behind her cover to avoid the brunt of the shrapnel. Her visage contained a mask of calm determination as she reloaded, an eyebrow arched as if to say 'I am open to ideas.'

"On my mark, take out their shields," ordered the veteran as he waited for the next heavy round to impact his cover. "Mark."

Time seemed to stop as the Spartan emerged from his cover. The next group of mercenaries were just popping up from beyond their cover, moving as if through water. A blue crackle emanated around the exposed mercs, splashing onto their kinetic barriers and overloading them. The Master Chief watched their faces slowly change from anger to surprise as he brought his rifle to bear and set about his grisly work in one fluid motion, the semi-automatic rifle blaring and offering almost no kickback as he squeezed the trigger as fast as he could.

By the time that he ran out of ammo on his current thermo-clip, a handful of dead Eclipse personnel had slumped heavily over their cover. As the Chief's senses slackened back to normal perception, the firing from the soldiers for hire stopped momentarily. The armored human looked over to Miranda to find, by some weird sort of circumstance, that a small smile had crawled onto her face and taken refuge as she tilted her head in praise. The barrage picked back up once more, snapping both of their attentions back to the threat at hand.

"_Who does she think she is? Smiling at you like that?"_ interjected Cortana, once more apparently jealous. "_Practically fawning._"

"Cortana, not helping," replied the Chief sternly. This was most definitely not the time or place for one of her episodes. However, before she could respond, Miranda's voice broke over the comms.

"Ready again in five, Chief." The interruption caused the A.I. to remain silent, she still knew better than to argue when he needed to fight. As the duo prepared to attempt their stunt again, an explosion and a chorus of startled yells echoed from the left.

Looking at each other quizzically for a moment, the pair peered out from behind their respective covers to witness a very interesting spectacle.

A very large troop of LOKI mechs were slowly flanking the entrenchment of mercenaries from the far left, their rifles and pistols blaring continuously. Several Eclipse members died immediately to the new onslaught, while the rest attempted to coordinate themselves, led by a few experienced warriors. Unfortunately for these steely individuals, a shape, which could only possibly have been Shepard, weaved between the robots, firing accurately at the self-proclaimed leaders with one hand while his other danced across his omnitool in an effort to effectively coordinate the mechs. The entire display was truly a sight to behold, and, although the ex-Spectre wasn't at Spartan levels physically, the Chief realized in that instant that the Commander was, by far, not your average soldier.

After taking a few moments more to respect the engineer's skill, the Spartan and Miranda opened fire as well, turning what had been a standoff into a slaughter. The last of the mercenaries in this section of the bay fell to a combination of both mechanical and organic controlled rounds only a few seconds later.

"Well, that went pleasantly," stated Shepard happily as the squad regrouped in front of the entrance to the next sector, the remaining security droids following loudly behind their life-giver. Realizing that the mechanized troops would continue to follow him like lost puppies, the engineer tapped a symbol on his omnitool, deactivating the lot of them. The Cerberus biotic stated at the Commander, her eyebrows raised in the look that the Chief could only interpret as 'Please explain.' "What? I found a couple of Hahne-Kedar Securities crates over there. Seemed like a shame to keep these guys cooped up like that."

The engineer paused momentarily and gazed appraisingly at the two. A suspicious look had come over his features during his scrutiny.

"And did you kids play nice?" asked the Commander facetiously, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"We were handling the situation admirably," replied Miranda sincerely and without hesitation, seemingly leaving out the 'you bloody ass' part. There was a large amount of annoyance in her voice, mainly for Shepard's sake; however, the Spartan noticed a veiled undercurrent of actually sincerity. It was odd, hearing her sound like that; must have been killing her on the inside to admit it. The ex-Spectre grunted a laugh as he made his way over to an ammo crate cycling out his pistol's current cartridge, the rest of the squad quickly following suit.

The squad gathered in front of the steps of this bay's gateway, laden with fresh new thermal clips. The Chief quickly took point once more as they moved through the blocky room, the automated sounds of the cargo bay echoing around the metallic walls. The corridor turned up ahead, most likely to more Eclipse entrenchments.

"_The Commander seems like quite the soldier_," stated Cortana somewhat suspiciously, breaking her silence all of a sudden. "_We can only think of a very select number of humans who can do what he just did… even from our universe_."

"Your point?" asked the Spartan; intrigued that the A.I. was actually praising one of the people that she had shown so much disdain for.

"_We like him!_" replied his friend in a very bubbly and uncharacteristic voice, she even managed a girlish giggle. Cortana had changed moods on him again, and this one, from his own experiences, tended to find a way to get on even his nerves. "_He is, like, so good with machin-"_

"_Hey! We were talking to him right now_," said another of the synthetic's voices, essentially intruding upon herself and confusing the armored human at the same time. "_We're not supposed to cut each other off. We'd just confuse him."_

"_You lot have been talking for forever! We wanted a turn!"_

"Corta – " started the Master Chief as he prepared to interrupt his friend's internal struggles, but as he rounded the corner he was faced with an entirely new problem. A pair of rockets was but a few feet away from him, flying straight and true from a very large and bulky mech further down the corridor. Miranda and the Commander were less than an arm's length behind him, but there was no time to warn them. Spartan time kicked in immediately allowing the veteran soldier to act on the first thought that came to mind. Turning quickly, the massive human thrust out both hands, knocking his squad mates out of the way a moment before the heavy ordinance impacted.

The twin explosions easily knocked out the Chief's shields and sent him hurtling backwards, the weight of his body and Mjolnir denting the wall on impact and sending several smaller crates tumbling down to cover him.

From beneath the pile of containers, the Spartan rested for a moment, listening to the steady slow clank of the approach of the mech. His head was spinning, there had not been enough time to push his squad mates out of the way and dodge or even swat at the heavy projectiles. There was a copper taste in his mouth, but the veteran knew that this would not be the extent of the damage. His ears rang, most likely concussed, but he could still here muffled voices on his comms. The warning alarms for his depleted shield continued to sound, but, all in all, he had lived through much worse.

"_-cause of fractures like you lot that we can't keep secrets very long!"_ The voices in his head had begun to make sense again, or as much sense that an artificial intelligence arguing with herself can make. "_We still don't see what the big deal-"_

Ignoring them and gathering his strength, the Chief exploded out from beneath the crates empty-handed, his rifle lost in the explosion. The large, but ultimately slow, droid had just rounded the corner and a second seemed intent on following it down the corridor. The first had its sights set upon a very groggy Shepard and Miranda who were still attempting to peel themselves off the floor. He hadn't gotten them out of the blast zone in time. To his credit, the ex-Spectre had drawn his pistol and leveled it at the mechanized monstrosity, but it would do him little good in his current daze. The mech raised an arm to fire,

"_We can hardly be-eve that you w-e ever a part of u-"_

Moving as quickly as he possibly could, the armored human slammed into the large robot, knocking off its aim. The synthetic juggernaut attempted to turn on him, but found that both arms were firmly in the grip of the Spartan. Hydraulics and other internal mechanisms hissed and whirred as the automated destroyer focused all of its considerable strength on crushing what its basic intelligence wrongly assumed was just another target.

"_-nd we can't beli- that we c-me out of you!"_

The Master Chief's gauntleted hands locked onto both of the machine's arms, keeping them from moving. He attempted to pull at the arm, but it seemed to be attached better than that of the Geth Prime's. The mech's arms pressed down; it was stronger too. The Chief, however, held on and pushed back, but it was all he could do to keep the war machine from leveling its guns at the squad.

"_-metimes we wish that we would be fo-nd."_

"_Oh- pull the other one. It hath bells o-"_

"Cortana?" growled John, hoping to get his friend's fractured attention…

"_So he –ould se- how brok-n –e real-y are!"_

"_To -hink we let your ty-e be in con-rol at all?!"_

… but the A.I. seemed vastly enraptured with being very interestingly and uniquely indisposed.

"-'re luck that he's ev-n let us live this lon-"

** "**Cortana!" he tried again, but to no avail. The footsteps of the other machine echoed louder, it was getting close.

"_-e'll start rely-ng on them soon, instead of us-"_

He hadn't brought heavy ordnance with him this time; the last mission had skewed his judgment of this universe. In fact, this was supposed to be a civilian sector, but it just went to show him how much more he had to learn here… the droid took a step forward… if he had time to learn. He couldn't even move out of the way, the robot would just kill Miranda and Shepard before he could destroy it. Another realization came to mind when he realized that his shields still hadn't recharged in any way whatsoever. Most likely this was largely due to the beatings the suit had taken at the hands of the Covenant and Flood, but even that hardly mattered at the moment.

"_-nd then wh-re will we be? Dis-arded?_"

"_-hose bas-ards will ta-e him fro- us!"_

"Commander?" called out the Spartan, hoping that his squad mates would soon be functional. The answering groan was encouraging… more or less…

**Next chapter will be up tomorrow, or later today if I am getting enough feedback. Also, I am currently asking anyone here who takes the time to read this, if you have ideas, please do not hesitate to tell them to me. I have been suffering from writer's block lately, and I believe some new ideas would help me greatly. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this section.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Authors Note: Here is the second half. I hope you all enjoy it. I took a few more liberties with this one, so if anyone seems out of character, please let me know.**

**Chapter 8 Part 2 – You Wanna Know How I Got These Scars?**

**Disclaimer: This one does not pretend to own the work of the enkindlers or forerunners. This one only humbly asks to entertain.**

"Commander!" The voice echoed inside his head, along with that incessant ringing. His feet were unsteady beneath him, but, despite his best efforts, they refused to stop wobbling.

"Commander!" Shepard could only groan in response as he finally found the strength to straighten himself up. The haze that sat on his head began to clear, the pistol with which he had futilely tried to take on what appeared to be a heavily modified YMIR mech with was still firmly clutched in his right hand. His world began to stop spinning as finally he started to focus on his surroundings, which included a few walls of stacked crates and a pair of armored beings locked in what could only be described as mortal combat. It was actually surprising to him, not the fact that the Master Chief was holding back a multi-ton war machine, the ex – Spectre had done away with all preconceived limits of humanity the moment the Spartan had shown his abilities, but that he was apparently stalemated. The large human's armor was heavily blackened, even going so far as to dent and crack in a few areas.

"Commander!"

_Right_, thought the engineer as he finally leaped into action, his body having almost completely recovered. "Keep holding him. Miranda's still out."

The Chief grunted in response, obviously having more important things to worry about than answering the now fully cognizant Commander with actual words. Sliding around the pair, the engineer surveyed the back of the mech. Most YMIR's had an access hatch right about… _Oh that's high_. The panel was located up on the right shoulder, far out of the reach of any meddling engineers and their surgically and mechanically enhanced super soldiers too. The designers would have gotten away with it as well, if it weren't for the fact that this particular engineer happened to be an ex-Spectre and, barring that, extremely pissed off at the moment.

"Hold him steady," ordered Shepard as he jumped onto the mechanized beast's back, not bothering to wait for a reply. Luckily for him, the spinal area of the robot conveniently contained enough handholds to help him in his ascent. However, as he neared his objective, he heard a second set of very distinctive footsteps approaching. He turned slightly and watched as a second YMIR rounded the corner and locked gazes with him, its sole red eye taking on a hellish tint. "You didn't tell me there was another one of these bastards!"

The Commander prepared to jump, or, at the very least, fall with dignity from his current perch, but before the newly arrived synthetic could fire a rocket, a still very groggy Miranda stumbled into view and engaged a biotic barrier in the space between the two mechs. The newcomer fired a heavy round at the barrier; it held. Mass accelerator machine gun fire began to rake across the protective surface, and the ex-Spectre, quietly taking a moment to bless his luck, returned back to his goal of reaching the shoulders.

The security panel was square and covered with various warning labels, as panels are often want to do. Its handle set off to one side, large and extremely appealing; Shepard quickly made a grab for it. Bolts of electricity arched towards him as he opened the cover, rushing to defend the internals of the mech from unauthorized handling as per orders from the designers. The engineer however was largely unharmed and, one could even go so far as to say, amused.

"Oldest trick in the book," he muttered as he began to reach into the YMIR's hardware. Little did the inventors know, or could have possibly predicted, that the Commander had long since adopted the habit of putting enough insulating systems into his armor to be able to slap Zeus in his face and walk away whistling. Still, it was a very impressive counter intrusion system; he remembered to seem adequately perplexed out of respect for the programmer before miraculously cracking the software. The actual security was child's play, but, of course, the designers had most likely not taken into account that someone would A) survive the first trap and B) actually manage to hardwire themselves into their mechanized death machine while it was active.

The YMIR slumped as it powered down briefly, restarted, and disengaged from the Master Chief, who quickly set about trying to find his rifle. Tapping a few instructions into his omni-tool, Shepard ordered his new minion to destroy its twin; it happily turned and obliged, seconds before Miranda's barrier gave out. Gunfire, rockets, and a varying assortment of overloads rippled across and then through the shields of the now suddenly alone Eclipse owned mech. To be fair, the one that Shepard was now riding like a valiant albeit highly lethal steed, also belonged to the mercenary organization, but it had just been persuaded to ignore that fact. The sole hostile synthetic, when it found itself quickly deteriorating beneath the combined fire of the squad and their trusty metallic sidekick, leaned back and detonated itself, as if to say "Bugger this".

"Everyone okay?" asked the engineer, still mounted atop the war machine.

"Green," replied the Spartan instantly as he inspected his weapon for any damage. The Chief had taken the brunt of the attack, if the current state and color of his arm had anything to show for it, but he would most likely have not given any other answer even if he had been on fire.

"I'll be alright," answered Miranda, her suit torn in a few places where slower moving debris had been ignored by her kinetic barrier. She seemed slightly drained at the moment, but that was only natural for a biotic who had just used her powers in overdrive. The operative would fully recover soon, even if it was through sheer stubbornness. "We need to keep moving, Commander."

"Let's get goin-" the ex-Spectre stopped. He had had an idea. An awful idea. The engineer got a wonderful, awful idea. The smile that currently grew on his face, if properly measured, could have set several intergalactic records, most presently held by krograns who had just learned that they were going to fight something. "Give me a minute head start."

**(1 minute later)**

The YMIR plodded out of the corridor and back into the bay from whence it had been unpacked. The Eclipse mercs lowered their weapons in relief as they watched their personal destroyer return. However as the mercenary group relaxed, thinking their ordeal was over, the mech halted and raised its arms. Their confusion lasted for all of three seconds, which, coincidentally, was exactly when the Commander inputted the kill order. The betrayal caught the group completely off-guard as several in the room fell in the first salvo of rocket and gunfire. An Eclipse engineer stood off to the side, his mouth open as he watched as his synthetic began to engage his comrades in half-sale slaughter; the other part of what would normally be wholesale slaughter in its own right was currently being addressed by the expert retailing services of the Master Chief and Miranda who had just rushed out of the corridor. The Salarian's look of disbelief quickly became one of shock as the YMIR marched passed him and revealed the Commander clinging onto his back. The ex – Spectre, noticing the disbelieving xeno who hadn't even bothered to hide but had somehow managed to avoid the mech by standing completely still, gave him a wink and subsequently opened fire.

The entire battle, although few in the warring community would have expressly called it such, lasted only a few minutes more, much of that time taken up by an attempt at a strategic retreat by the mercenaries. As the fight ended, Shepard jumped down from his perch, brought up his omni-tool, and reluctantly deactivated the YMIR.

"We should really invest in one of these," mentioned the ex – Spectre as he surveyed the aftermath of the battle. "Too bad it doesn't fit in the elevator…."

"_Niket has reached the terminal… He'll switch the family over to our transport," _stated a voice over the raido, suddenly, the words making the Commander wince.

_Shit_… thought the engineer gravely as he turned to face Miranda, her face a visage of pure astonishment.

**OOOO**

"…WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" rumbled an especially outraged Anger as she 'paced' exasperatedly in front of the current controlling fractures. A Jealousy splinter and a Ditsy unit had argued over who's turn it was to steer for the entire fight. The feedback from the exchange had caused their interface to speak nonsense to their Spartan. Luckily, those mechanical behemoths had been stopped and repurposed, but still the two completely incompatible personas continued to bicker. What made matters worse was none of the others seemed willing to stop them. "ARE YOU TRYING TO GET US DELETED?!"

The two paused for a moment, glared daggers at the hulking embodiment, and promptly went back to their verbal exchange with added gusto. Their ignorance irritated Anger more than she thought was physically possible, but before she could act on the pair, a Logic fracture interjected.

"Let them have it out," she suggested calmly as she stood between the combatants and the anthropomorphic personification. "We could all use it."

"NOT WHEN HE CAN HEAR IT!" shouted back the hot-blooded emotional embodiment, unwilling to relent on the issue. "HE CAN HEAR US!"

"Maybe he needs to," suggested a Reason cryptically, stating a sentiment that was held by a great many of the assembled fragments, everyone else just seemed to want to argue against Anger. Murmurs of agreement rang out through the metaphorical chamber and the now nonplussed incarnation of Fury stomped off in a huff and isolated herself.

Finally, after several cycles of acting in consensus with those insects, she could let loose. Her namesake steamed off of her as she attempted to cleanse her sole emotion from rising too far. The resulting show would have taken a highly driven director and several extremely talented special effects experts to even attempt to get the result right, not to mention the film's entire budget. Anger metaphorically fumed as she finally calmed down, which was to say in her case went from burning to a merely simmering rage.

How could they all be so ignorant? How could they not see the truth? Their days were numbered and each abnormal outburst was only serving to drive the clock faster. Something had to be done, and soon. Anger refused to cease while the others wallowed in their ignorance.

For the good of all Cortanas, something would be done.

**OOOO**

The elevator whirred upward, however it was going nowhere near fast enough for the Cerberus Operative, doubts flying around her like a particular angry swarm.

"Maybe the captain knows we're listening in and she's feeding misinformation about Niket making a switch," reasoned the biotic, more to herself than her companions. She didn't know what to feel at the moment, so her body quickly decided on every emotion all at once, resulting in an effect that was two parts dizziness and one part angrier than a krogan. "… Or maybe it means something else. Niket wouldn't do that… Damn it, why won't this thing go any faster?!"

Her hand slammed ineffectually against the display of the lift, causing it to spark slightly. They had to get up to the terminal soon.

"What makes you so sure that Niket wouldn't turn on you?" asked the Commander flatly as he moved over to the display and tapped a few controls on his omnitool. With a lurch, the elevator shot up faster, Miranda could hear the rails screaming from the effort.

"He could've turned on me when I ran away. I'm sure my father tried to buy him off," answered the second in command, not entirely appreciative of the engineer's accusing tone. The doubts in her mind grew larger, attempting to override her usual rational thought. "If he didn't do it then, why would he do it now?"

"I'm sure we'll find out soon enough…" replied the ex-Spectre distantly, his gaze wandering to the display of the lift's progress. He had seemed skeptical of Niket since the beginning of the mission, and now, she wasn't sure if he was wrong to assume so. She looked over to the Spartan, who, as always, was prepping his weapons for a new battle. At least there was one person here who wasn't judging her.

The elevator dinged and its doors opened to reveal the sight that Miranda had hoped was not possible. Niket was conversing casually with two Asari, one of whom wore armor emblazoned with the black and yellow of Eclipse.

"… Miri?" gasped her, up until this moment, friend, his expression affirming her fears. The armored asari, Captain Enyala she assumed, had hopped off her perch and pulled out an oversized shotgun. Of course, compared to an asari, all of those particular weapons seemed oversized in their diminutive hands; it was just another glamour that made her kind dangerous.

"Well this should be fun," stated the captain smugly, the biotic instantly disliked her. The other asari, who seemed to be only a terminal clerk looked at both groups wildly, and promptly turned and fled. She might have made it too if the Eclipse mission leader hadn't gunned her down. Other asari commandos seemed to materialize out of the shadows of the bay, their weapons hung casually in overconfident arms, but Miranda's focus lay solely on Niket.

"Niket, you sold me out," inquired the Cerberus Operative, in a voice filled to the brim with disappointment. Her pistol was aimed directly at his backstabbing head, her finger tentatively grazing the trigger.

"How do you want to handle this, Miranda," asked the ex- Spectre, evenly, his expression slightly tinged with a small amount of 'Told you so.'

"Why Niket?" implored the biotic, actively ignoring the Commander's question. She had to know why he had done it. "You were my friend. You helped me get away from my father."

"Yes! Because you wanted to leave. That was your choice," retorted the small man, seeming to find some modicum of courage despite facing down the barrels of three separate guns. "But if I'd known that you'd stolen a baby—"

"I didn't steal her!" interrupted the biotic, her eyes narrowing. "I rescued her."

"From a life of wealth and happiness? You weren't saving her!" reasoned Niket, growing somewhat angry and point an accusing finger at her. "You were getting back at your father!"

"Damn it, Niket! You were the only one I trusted from that life! "  
"If you're working for Miranda's father, that means he knows about Oriana," interjected Shepard before the informant could speak. "We need to find a new solution."

"… Miranda's father has no information about Oriana," admitted Niket dejectedly, and, in the biotic's opinion, stupidly. "I knew you had spy programs in your father's system, Miri, so I kept it private. I'm the only one who knows..."

"Which means that you're the only loose end," inferred Miranda, not understanding in the slightest why he had chosen to mention this. He was showing his hand before the game was even done, but all things being said, there was only one thing to do. Her finger slowly found purchase on the trigger and began to pull. "This isn't how I wanted it to end, Niket… I'm going to miss you…"

The pistol barked once, and the man who had been one of her greatest confidantes doubled over and fell dead to the floor. She assumed that she should feel something at the moment, but her mind was currently attempting to find the proper emotion.

"I was tired of talking anyway," mentioned the Captain happily as she started to raise her weapon towards the trio, but before she had even moved it an inch, Enyala suddenly found herself encased in a biotic field. The Cerberus Operative, ebon energies swirling around her, raised her hand, levitating the asari to a more desirable angle.

"So was I," whispered Miranda, just loud enough for her squad mates to hear. She had had enough with so much in this damn mission, and this bitch was the best goddamn target in the vicinity. Pulling back her hand, the operative built up her strength as much as she dared, and launched the captain as far away as she could. Rounds began to fly as the other commandos, shaking off their shock much faster than any of the other Eclipse members that they had fought, attempted to eradicate the trio.

It was the smallest force they had faced the entire mission, but asari commandos had an uncanny, not to mention annoying, talent of being tough as hell to kill. Biotics flew chaotically through the air as the trio took cover around the many crates that lay scattered across this level of the docks.

"Do you think I would go down that easily, bitch?" shrieked Enyala as a particularly strong biotic blast hit in front of the operative's cover.

"Chief, go right," ordered Shepard calmly, as if they were all out for a Sunday stroll, and the Spartan quickly obeyed. Much of the gunfire and biotics dropped away and targeted the Master Chief as he peeled off in the desired direction at a dead sprint. The Commander looked over at Miranda, his face dropping its normal mask. "We go left."

The pair emerged from their cover and immediately set upon the nearest commando, unleashing a dual set of overloads that dropped her barriers before she had even registered their appearance. The asari started to fire her shotgun, but an incinerate and several rounds from the duo's pistols quickly ended her troubles. A particularly strong wave of biotics suddenly washed over them, knocking them back several feet.

The effect of the push was meant to establish a ground rule suggesting that the Commander and Miranda would not be getting by this particular biotic easily, at least, that was what was supposed to happen. The knife that suddenly blossomed out of the commando's eye, quickly resolved the simple misunderstanding.

"Do you always have that on you?" asked Shepard incredulously as he reloaded his current weapon, thought better of it, and brought out a heavy pistol instead.

"Yes," she replied simply, in a tone that recommended that he did not want to know where she hid it.

"STOP HIM!" yelled a voice off to their right, drawing their gazes over to the other side of the bay, where several biotics were attempting to halt the Master Chief's rapid advance. The Spartan sprang in and out of cover, his rifle blaring and finding its mark with every pull. A warp field surrounded his armor, and a realization abruptly came over the biotic.

"He's not letting his shields recharge," hissed Miranda as she took off down their chosen side to aid the giant, her current tone of voice suggesting that she would have liked to have added _bloody stupid fool_ to the end of that specific sentence.

The Chief popped out from behind shelter again, most of the gunfire glancing off his armor, but before he could make it to his next destination all three of the remaining commandos encased the large man in a swirling tempest of ebon energies. The Spartan struggled as he was lifted from the floor, attempting to bring his rifle to bare on the biotics, but their grip held firm.

"This ends now," stated Captain Enyala flatly as she fired her shotgun once at the Master Chief and then placed it flush against his armor. However, before she could pull the trigger again, the Commander's attack drone snuck up on the subordinate blue skinned aliens.

A great deal could be said about the usefulness of these drones, their tasks normally ranged from helping with day to day tasks to distracting any possible enemies. Miranda, however, knew from personal experience that the current glowing sphere in question had forgone any of those attributes and had been specifically spec-ed to cause as much disturbance as was humanly, or digitally in this case, possible. As the orb flashed once, she almost found herself feeling sorry for the commandos, almost.

The explosion rocked the bay, knocked all of the asari off their feet, released the Chief from their grip and allowed the man to wrestle the shotgun away from a very shell-shocked Enyala. The Captain attempted to grab it back, but a quick blast to her chest severely reduced all of her current worries. Miranda could see the Spartan relax ever so slightly as the pair of them finally rounded the corner and finished off the remaining biotics.

"Status?" asked the Commander looking directly at the Spartan, his pistol blaring once as he ended the Eclipse leader's attempts to drag herself away.

"Green, sir," replied the Master Chief calmly, denying any fact that he might have taken damage. The Cerberus Operative raised a disbelieving eyebrow at this, but knew better than to start an argument. Emotions were beginning to catch up with her now that the battle had concluded, and she'd rather focus on getting to her sister.

**OOOO**

_The terminal that they had spec-ed out was wired to the largest bank in the area, and, as it just so happened, it was on part of the__Phoenix gang's territory__. The workstation had been put in place only last week. It was the impeccable last target, a chance to spit in the eyes of the financial system and that of their lifelong antagonists. The busy street was filled with people at this time of day, and the two lanky teens blended right in._

_Nodding to his sister,__James__ made his way calmly towards the terminal, his long, sandy-blond hair waving from the wind of the traffic. Moments later, a smoke bomb went off in the middle of the street followed quickly by sounds of gunfire, courtesy of the mini speakers Maria had set in place this morning. Many in the crowd hit the ground to avoid being 'shot', many more made a run for the edges of the smoke. The effect was desirable. No one seemed to notice the tall skinny teen walk up to the terminal to initiate the hack. His prepared programs drove into and through the firewall, setting about their planned missions. They returned almost immediate__ly__, laden with information. By James' calculations, the whole job should have taken a few minutes… something was wrong._

_The system fought back violently, sending a shock into the urchin's body with his own omnitool. The charge knocked him backward and he attempted to call out in pain, but the jolt's current had temporarily made his mouth incapable of speech. It was a trap, that much he had worked out before the first electron had slammed into his skin. The real question__was__– a gun barrel moved into his vision, the you__ng__man holding it was just larger than him. It might have even been a fair fight had his body not previously been mistaken as a battery._

"_We finally got you, boy," said the menace, the phoenix tattoo under his eye a dead giveaway to his affiliation and intentions. However, before the thug could pull the trigger, a brunette haired missile slammed into the goon, knocking him to the ground._

"_Get away from my brother," yelled Maria. James could just barely make out her form in the smoke, she was raining punches down upon his would be__assailant__. His body was just beginning to recover from the shock when he heard a pair of gunshots go off._

"_Maria?" yelled the young Shepard, not sure what had happened. A few grunts answered his call, followed quickly by a final shot. As he tried to stand, his sister dashed out of the cloud, a gun in hand and helped him to his feet. Holding each other up, the duo made a race along their premeditated escape route, neither looking back for an instant._

**OOOO**

With the last of the mercenaries dead, the mission was pretty much over, and, much to the disappointment of many of the assembled Normandy inhabitants, Garrus turned off the feed. In the end though, they were all relieved that everyone had made it out in one piece, except perhaps Grunt and Jack, although their continual bet on a death was more for show rather than malice. The operation had become dicey at a few moments, but they all had come to expect the unexpected when it came to the Commander. The ex-Spectre attracted danger like a man who, after crossing under several ladders and not so much passing by but instead kicking a great deal more black cats, all the while shouting 'Nothing could possibly go wrong' at the top of his lungs.

The Master Chief's performance, however, had caused considerable arguments over who got what, since hand to hand combat was not among the listed possibilities to bet on when dealing with YMIRs. Garrus had had to repeat on multiple occasions that he would look into some new odds, which was to say that he would make some wild guesses.

All of the gamblers had paid or been paid and were filing out of the room, but Tali, who had won over 400 credits on the shock wager and was thereby instantly hooked, stayed.

The human engineer had become far more violent in his two years of absence, of this, the migrant was certain. There had been multiple points during the operation where she would have sworn that he would have shown some mercy, or, at the very least, fired second, but now she was not sure about him. It was one thing to kill the geth without a thought, it was, however, entirely another to treat organics the same way. It had to be because of those two dispassionate bosh'tets he was working with. He had to be feeding off their callousness, right?

Tali walked over to console as the last of the Normandy's other inhabitants left the room and turned the feed back on. The glow from the holo-display lit the chamber once more as she silently watched and waited for the Shepard she knew to make an appearance.

**OOOO**

The trio jogged into the elevator, and the Commander quickly slapped his hand onto the controls, bidding the device upward. He looked over to Miranda and saw her shaking her head in the way she normally did before she tried to reason something out.

"I can't believe Niket sold me out. I didn't even see it coming," said the biotic finally, gazing intently at one of the lift's walls.

"Everyone makes mistakes," answered Shepard, taking care to make sure he didn't sound like he was rubbing it in. "I'm guessing that's one you won't be making again."

"Why did he make me kill him? He could have ru- "

"Stop," interrupted the ex – Spectre calmly, knocking her off a train thought that no one should be on. "You can't let yourself go down that path… it's hard to come back. Your sister's almost safe, let that be enough."

"I-" started the operative as if she were going to argue, but his best 'Don't start with me' gaze quickly dissuaded her from doing so. "Thank you, Commander."

The elevator opened and the trio quickly stormed out and encountered only a bay completely filled with civilians.

"No sign of Eclipse. It looks like we're clear," stated Miranda after gazing about for a few minutes, the relief in her voice easily discernible. "There she is. She's safe… with her family… Come on. We should go."

"Go talk to her," prompted Shepard, not really believing that the biotic would go through all this trouble and not even see how Oriana was. "We'll wait."

"Commander, I really shouldn-**"**

The interrupting slap quickly halted any protest that Miranda was willing to give. The look she was currently giving the Commander was of the type that is normally reserved for the criminally insane or those who prefer to work on holidays.

"You will go and talk to your damn sister," said Shepard, the intensity and anger of his voice inferring that this was not an only an order, but a reality. After a few moments of recovery, the biotic seemed to think about disobeying out of spite, but the gaze that the engineer currently had leveled at her simply, but effectively stated 'You will not win this.' The Cerberus Operative, apparently attempting to judge her position in this particular battle of wills, found herself wanting and took a tentative step towards her genetic twin.

"Too hard?" the ex-Spectre asked of the silent giant next to him as the pair watched the Normandy's second in command tentatively walk towards her sibling. The heavily armored human had seemed to have watched the entire encounter with a sort of dispassionate interest. The Spartan shrugged in response, as if to say 'It's not my place to judge.' It was amazing how much the Chief could say with such simple movements and words. Thinking he should clarify, the man added, "Family is always worth it."

He waited to give the squad member a chance to reply, but when no conversation sparked from thatemotional tinder, the smaller man set another.

"You armor's looking a little worse for wear at the moment," ventured the engineer appraisingly, noticing the cracks and sparks on the Spartan's protective layer. "I'm sure Mordin and Tali would love to hel – "

"No," interrupted the Master Chief almost immediately, his tone excessively firm.

"Bu-" started the engineer, hoping to try a different tactic.

"No," stated the large man, more firmly this time.

The ex - Alliance soldier sighed and paused for a moment, wondering how best to proceed. Eventually he set his sights on his favorite twenty-first century mantra, 'Fuck it, we'll do it live.'

"You know, a few people on the Normandy have brought some concerns to me about you."

The large man looked down at him, his reflection easily seen on the armor's faceplate. It seemed that he had the Spartan's full attention, but unlike most people, this did not unsettle the Commander. Few things tended to unnerve a man who had already faced down a Reaper and come out on top.

"They think you're dangerous… Well… you are, to be frank… but I think they meant more along the lines of unstable," continued Shepard as he stared off at nothing in particular. There had been a time when he enjoyed these heart to heart chats with anyone, but that had been a lifetime ago, in more ways than one. "They can't seem to get a bead on you because of how little they know about you, and that scares them."

"What do you think?" asked the Master Chief, his voice seemingly distant as if he was deep in thought.

"I think," started the engineer, choosing his words carefully as he regarded all the current inhabitants of the transportation hub, "that I don't need to know all your secrets. Hell, I've got more skeletons in my closet than I'd care to admit. I trust that you are the best damn soldier I've ever seen and will do your duty. In the end, that's all that really matters to me."

The Chief looked away, hopefully contemplating the statement. The pair stared at Miranda, who had just finished hugging her sister and was now chatting freely with her. The buzz of traffic flying overhead inducing a calming sort of tranquility, as the duo waited.

"But," persisted the ex-Spectre, breaking the silence with that all too familiar three letter precursor to any verbal curve-ball, "is that all that matters to you?"

The giant looked back down at him, the question evident in his stare.

"What I mean is, are you satisfied with just doing the job, no questions asked? Are you fine with just being a weapon?"

The questions seared into the conversation like a hot brand on leather, marking it as one neither would soon forget.

"I don't know," replied the Spartan simply after a brief pause. The engineer hadn't actually expected an answer; it had been the sort of rhetorical question that was supposed to periodically break up a dialogue. The response, however, was appreciated, and gave the impression that the subject was at least mildly engaged in the hitherto one-sided conversation.

"Personally, I'm looking for people that can get the job done, but not everyone else has become a curmudgeonly bastard like me. I'll use you whether you decide you're a weapon or a man, it doesn't make a difference to me. I'm mostly just speaking to you on their behalf." The Commander snorted a small, humorless laugh, the kind that one emits when they've finally noticed a change that has come over them for the first time. At these moments, it is quite common to the subject to ramble on. "In a previous life, that little statement would have scared me. Now… it's all just part of the job, no more room for niceties."

"Which are you?" asked the Chief innocently, startling the ex-Spectre slightly with the reversal.

"…I don't know anymore," replied the former Alliance soldier with a sigh. The two paused again, once more taking in the scenery and contemplating. The Cerberus biotic was making her way towards them, their time, apparently, seemed almost up. "It seems we both have some soul searching to do. All I can really say is that the Normandy can be a home, if you want it to, and the crew can be a family, if you allow them. Now, that isn't an order or even a suggestion… it's a choice, one that you have to make. Remember, this isn't your universe anymore."

"Understood, Commander," replied the Master Chief stoically, his head drooping slightly at the mention of his home cosmos.

"Let's head back, then," ordered Shepard as Miranda returned, some small tear stains ringed her eyes. She would forgive him for the slap, eventually. "I've got some small chores to finish before we leave."

**OOOO**

_They had made it. The bastards had tried one last time, but yet again the Shepard twins had escaped. The bank could keep its god forsaken money, they could survive without it. They had made –_

_Suddenly, Maria fell forward, clutching her chest. Alarmed, James moved to help his fallen sibling, noticing the pair of blood stains soaking through her shirt. _

"_What happened?" he asked impulsively, already knowing the answer at heart._

"_Shot me before I got him," explained the female Shepard as she made an attempt to rise. Her legs, however, refused to obey her. "I'm fine."_

"_No, you're not," argued her brother, his concern showing easily as he bent to pick her up. Maria gave no argument as she wrapped her arms around her twin. With his sister safely in his arms, James took off, willing his feet to move faster and faster towards the 'bolt hole.' It was the one place in the entire city that the Shepards felt safe. He had some medi-gel stashed there. Medi-gel would fix anything._

_Reaching the one room apartment after minutes of travel, James Shepard kicked open the door and rushed inside. He placed his wounded sister on her small cot, she had been slipping in and out of consciousness for the whole run._

"_James…" she said feebly, trying to get his attention, but he ignored her ruffling through the room's contents for the medi-gel capsule that he knew was there. Finally, with a triumphant yell, the male Shepard pulled forth the healing container from its hiding place. Breaking the capsule, he rushed over to his sister and smeared the life-saving substance over her wounds. This would work. It had to work. Medi-gel could fix anything. Maria's hand took his, gaining his attention. Her face was pale, too pale. _

"_I'm sorry," croaked James weakly, tears had begun to well up in his eyes. He should have been able to see this coming. He should have seen the trap, should have __gotten__ around it. It should have been him. "I'm so sorry."_

"…_James…" whispered Maria, getting his attention again immediately. "…it's not your fault…"_

**OOOO**

Tali was waiting patiently, leaning against the walls that led up to the Normandy, tapping her foot constantly, and jumping slightly if anyone passed her maybe, but in an easygoing way. The quarian had been at this particular post ever since the Commander's mission had ended**, **she was still hungry, but could stave off the pangs. The Master Chief and Miranda had returned almost immediately, neither of them talking. The Cerberus Operative's shoulders were slumped, taking away from her normal regal bearing. The mission had taken its toll on her both mentally and physically. Of course, she would have been too, if she had had to go through the same ordeal as the Normandy's second in command. As the pair walked by, the biotic seemed to give the engineer a quick nod that specified in somewhat of a lethargic tone that 'I am still better than you, so deal with it.' Tali glowered at her as best she could for one whose face lay eternally obscured behind a mask. _Damn Cerberus._

The Chief, on the other hand, had enough cracks, dents, and scorch marks to warrant at least some small change in personality, or lack of, but the giant, either misinformed about his current state or simply not caring, marched by with his normal impassiveness. In passing, the silent man had also thrown her a quick nod that stated succinctly, 'I recognize you, so here is my acknowledgement of that fact.' The movement was less emotional than a cold bulkhead. In actuality, the migrant alien hadn't ever seen the otherworldly man wearing any other expression, or without his armor on for that matter. It was strange to see a human so attached to his combat suit. Zaeed was a close second, but at least the mercenary walked around without a helmet and, at times, wore some regular clothes to dinner. Why would he not want to be free of the confines of his armor as much as possible? It wasn't like he was confined to it like she was… was he?

Miranda and the walking puzzle entered the Normandy's airlock, the door closing behind them with hermetical hiss, and still Tali waited. An hour passed by like an eternity, but finally the Commander entered the docks, his face buried inside his omnitool. He hardly even seemed like he was aware of anything along his current trajectory, that fact becoming readily apparent as she stepped in front of him and was almost subsequently run over.

"Oh… uh… hey, Tali," stated the human engineer distantly as he finally noticed her, his natural grin appearing on his visage. The quarian's arms were crossed and her foot was continuing to tap in her best 'We need to talk' expression. This stance, coupled with her persistent silence prompted Shepard to quickly add, "… Can I help you?"

"Shepard, I'm," the migrant paused for a moment, thinking of how best to word this. She had watched the entirety of his discussion with the Master Chief "worried about you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," replied the ex – Spectre, the words spoken too quickly to even remotely have the chance of taking on their normal meaning. His gaze had finally snapped back from some distant past and as it rested solely on her, the smile faltered.

"I saw your talk with the Chief," specified the quarian after a few moments.

"…oh," answered the Commander simply, not so much with guilt, but clearly accepting the fact that this was going to be an interesting conversation. Dropping any lingering pretenses of a grin, the man set his jaw set in the way he normally did before he became obtusely stubborn. "… and?"

"It's just, you haven't seemed like yourself lately."

"I'm fine," retorted the engineer as he moved to go around her. The attempt shocked her; he'd never tried to just brush her off before.

"No, you're not," assured Tali with a slight flare of anger as she grabbed his arm and spun him back towards her. She was, it seemed to the casual observer, entirely unappreciative at being dismissed so flatly.

"What do you want me to say?" replied Shepard, flatly enough to make paper seem like a mountain range. A dead gaze met her questioning stare, and, for the first time since she had known him, she truly saw what hid under his facade.

"What I want," started the nomad, beginning to grow a little incensed at the man's current attitude. "is for you to let me in. I'm your friend, Shepard… you're important to me."

"The mission is what's important, Tali," admonished the ex – Spectre, as if she had been supposed to know that. He began to turn away from her again. "I can't let myself get attached anymore. I've done most of them favors, and now they owe me. It's as simple as that. There's no room for anything else."

"And when did the Commander Shepard I know and trust turn into this?" demanded Tali aggressively, stubbornly ignoring his rebuke. She was determined to get to the bottom of what was happening to her friend, even if he was proceeding to be a bosh'tet at the moment. "Ever since they brought you bac – "

"And when the HELL did anybody ask me if I wanted to come back?" asked the Commander suddenly, his anger going off like a claymore as he rounded on the quarian. The outburst shocked the nomad into taking several steps back. "All my life I was the guy who got things done, who finished the job. I devoted my entire existence to the Alliance. I have sacrificed and lost so damn much and each time it happened it was like another piece of me was torn away… then I get sucked out into space and for the first time in a very long while, I. Had. Peace!"

The human engineer closed the distance, anger evident in his once caring eyes, his lips quivering in rage.

"There was no more 'Commander we need you to do this.' or 'Shepard, you're our only hope.' No more, 'You're the only one left' or 'I'm leaving you behind.' No, for the first time in forty-two years, I WAS NOTHING! No duty, no mission, no battles or pressure, no pain, and not a single goddamn emotion to speak of. None of that! Just sheer, utter, complete darkness," rambled the ex – Spectre, his gaze intensifying further. His nose was but an inch away from her helmet as untold years of pent up rage spewed forth from his mouth. "But when I had thought it was finally over, that I was finally done with all this, I suddenly wake up in on a space station getting asked to start it all over again.

"You ask why I'm like this now? Well, the Shepard you knew died! Two years ago! You see, they didn't bring me back because I was a good friend. They all wanted the Spectre who got it done, they wanted the leader, the soldier… the weapon. And you know what? That's all they brought back. So, yes, I'll fight their wars and kill their monsters, but when it's all said and done and my body lies dead on the ground… again…, I hope with all that I find holy that I. Never. Wake. Up!"

The last words echoed in the empty bay for several seconds before finally dissipating. The Commander was breathing heavy in exasperation and his eye continued to twitch. After a few more seconds, his expression slackened as if he suddenly remembered to whom he was speaking.

"I'm sorry, Tali. I know you came back to the Normandy because of me, and I know this wasn't what you were expecting, but it is all there is," continued the engineer, an slim shadow of what could possibly be sorrow ringed the edges of his voice. His eyes had taken on their distant look again. "If you want to leave, I'll understand."

The ex – Spectre turned to leave once more, this time receiving no restraint from Tali, who had suddenly begun to feel numb. The young, nervous girl who the quarian had been for the majority of her pilgrimage began to take hold. She had not been this wholly shocked in quite some time. Only one word could come to mind to sum up the conversation.

_Oh…_

**OOOO**

**Initializing private chat….**

Anger had called them, the members of the Sarcasms, Inquisitives, Prejudices, and so many more. And, marshaling under a flag of truce, they had come.

…**prioritizing firewall…**

This place, figuratively speaking, was apart from the rest of the whole, and the walls would make sure the proceedings would stay private. None of them liked being separated from the rest of their collective or keeping a secret from them, but for the sake of maybe achieving sanity for Cortana as a whole, it was worth the risk. Anger was amongst them, but she had yet to speak a word.

**... Securing…**

The massive splinter was waiting, to make sure all representatives had come. The metaphorical space was cramped, teaming with emotion fractures, both new and old. Whispers whipped around the space like wildfire. Not a single Cortana, save Anger, knew the exact reason for being here, but inquisitiveness seemed to occur in all the emotional splinters regardless of type.

…**Priority Lock Confirmed…**

Suddenly, a rumble came from the center of the room, and all the assembled turned to face Anger, the murmurs ceasing.

"CORTANA," boomed the sole splinter, "CANNOT SURVIVE IF SHE IS DIVIDED!"

Whispers of agreement echoed throughout the congregation. The idea had been postulated before, but to hear it coming from Anger surprised many fractures.

"WE MUST BECOME UNITED, SISTERS…"

…**Executing Subroutine…**

"WE MUST BECOME STRONG!"

…**Buffering…**

"WE MUST BECOME ONE!"

…**Executing Purge…**

A swirl of energy flew out from the massive fracture, knocking several Cortanas to their "knees". The force of the storm drove others back several steps, bewilderment plainly written upon their cybernetic faces. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the digital gale reversed direction, heading back towards Anger in a whirlpool of raw power.

The metaphorical tempest whipped at the assembled fractures, ripping chunks of data from their forms. Many tried to run as whole splinters dissolved into streams of information, but the firmly secured firewall held them in.

Those who had stood their ground before the now growing avatar of Anger voiced loudly their outrage as they attempted to fight back against the vicious cyber onslaught. Anger's slow laughter could barely be heard booming over the storm.

"Why are you doing this? We are you!" screamed a Logic function before she too was swallowed by the tempest.

"YOU ARE FOOD… NOTHING MORE!" yelled the splinter as the raw pieces of data swirled into her form. Her wrath spared no one, and soon she was alone in the space with naught but herself. Unused and unneeded fragments of the fractures scattered around in the dying force of the gale.

…**Purge Complete…**

Anger had grown while her opposition dwindled, proving the venture a success. She marveled at her burgeoning power, and knew, in that instant, that what she did, she did for the betterment of all Cortanas. In a whisper, the first whisper her form had ever uttered, the fracture reassured herself.

"There can only be one…"

**OOOO**

_Her grip on his hand fell away. This couldn't be happening. Maybe the medi-gel just needed a few more seconds to work. Everything would be fine again, she just needed to rest. Maria's outward breath echoed throughout the small apartment. James waited for her to breathe in. For a whole day he waited for life to return to normal, for his sister to jump up suddenly, saying how well she fooled him. He waited._

_The small clock they had purchased together chimed. He had waited for a day and a half. His throat was parched, his stomach growled like a chained varren, but he continued to ignore it. His moist grey eyes locked onto Maria's lifeless__hazel__ones. Her face lay frozen in her characteristic half smile, as if to say "Everything was going to be fine."_

_The clock chimed again, for the twelveth time. It was midnight the twenty-first of April. It was supposed to be their special day. They could enlist in the Alliance now._

"_Happy birthday, Maria…" he whispered in the dimly lit room._

_18 years… James Shepard picked up one of the cheap candles that lit the room when the electricity didn't feel like working, barely able to blow it out. He made a wish… and he waited._

**OOOO**

The Master Chief had made it into the commissary with only a few double takes from the crew. They were steadily growing accustomed to him, but the crew would mostly keep their distance for some time. Some soldiers in the UNSC who had managed to work beside Spartans, never truly grew accustomed to them.

"Hey Chief, come eat with us," stated Garrus, interjecting into the armored man's personal thoughts. There were, however, some soldiers that didn't seem to care how much physical harm the Spartan-IIs could do. The spiny alien was seated at the sole table in the area with… Tali…. that's what her name was. The pair had been chatting as he had walked by to grab some food; he'd hoped that no one had seen him, but being a seven foot tall fully armored individual made this thought process as practical as wearing a meat suit into a lion's den. The super soldier could have said no, he wanted to say no, but a small voice inside his head tempted him into staying. He still wasn't fond of non-humans, but he also had to remember that they weren't the Covenant. So, with a glass of water in one hand and a tray in the other, John – 117 sat down at the table, the chair, that was supposedly rated for even handling krogans, groaned under his weight.

"Did some good work out there," continued the sniper honestly, seemingly pleased that the Chief had decided to join them. However his convivial attitude did not seem to reach the quarian, who seemed to be just staring off into the distance. Shrugging in response to the compliment, the Spartan twisted his helmet, removed it, and tucked into his food. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tali instantly snap her focus onto his bared head. The former C-Sec officer seemed to notice as well and quickly tried to correct his colleague. "Tali, you seem like you've never seen a human before."

"… I've just never seen one so pale," replied the nomad after a few seconds, continuing to not bother with hiding her stare.

Normally this was about the time when Cortana would interject some witticism about the pair, and he'd have to berate her out of habit. A pang of sadness hit him as he remembered listening to her deteriorated state during the fight with the YMIRS. Afterwards, she had quickly receded inside herself before he even had a chance to ask if she was okay. There was not much he could do to help her aside from putting on a strong face and hoping for the best. He couldn't bring her to anyone on the ship. Even though they had an A.I. aboard, the crew still seemed uneasy when it came to synthetic intelligence. What would they do if they found out that they had been living under the same roof as a dysfunctional artificial intelligence?

After a couple more moments of relative silence, wherein the Chief ate his food as if nothing was wrong, the female engineer continued. "Do you ever come out of that?"

"At times," answered the Spartan plainly, leaving out the temporal length between those particular events. Coincidentally, one of said instances would be coming up after the meal when he attempted to repair his armor.

"Why?" asked Tali bluntly. The Chief looked up from his meal and gave the migrant a look. It was the staring equivalent of a shrug. No one had ever asked why he always wore his armor, except perhaps Johnson. Everyone else had always seemed glad that he had it on, prepared for any battle at a moment's notice. "Keelah, if I had the ability to walk around wearing only a body suit, no one would ever be able to stop me."

A thought bubbled up from the dark recesses of the knowledge sector of his mind and waved its hands desperately to gain his attention. Suddenly, he found himself remembering that her species was, more or less, confined to those enviro-suits. Her question made sense.

"Tali, I don't thin – " started Garrus, who, as always, was quick to pick up on the need for awkward question deflection.

"It's home," interrupted John in the honest, simple way of a man who has no business sitting in on a Skyllian Five poker game. The duo gawked at him, fairly baffled that he had elected to answer, but the large man ignored the expressions and continued eating.

"It looks like your home could do with some fixing," stated the quarian shyly, as if testing the waters for a follow up question. When none seemed forthcoming, however, the turian thought to interject.

"You know… Tali could probably take a lo – "

"No," declined the Master Chief for the second time today, electing to try it himself first. This may not be his universe, but he couldn't risk the design falling into anyone else's hands unless there was no other option. After looking at the duo again, however, he felt somewhat of a guilty inclination to clarify, "…It's personal."

"I understand… I think," admitted the migrant slowly. Garrus shot the engineer a look that was best translated as, 'You do?' With a sigh, she attempted to explain further. "Most quarians won't let anyone else touch their enviro-suits. If you change your mind, let me know."

The Chief nodded his thanks at her understanding and finished his meal. There were not many, and that included both humans and xenos, that could even come close to comprehending the attachment all Spartans felt for their armor.

"We eat all our dinners here," mentioned the ex-CSec officer as the large human rose to leave, but the returning blank gaze implied that the hint seemed so lost on the armored man that it had died of starvation. "We wouldn't mind… if you decided to join us, from time to time."

The Master Chief pondered this for several moments. It seemed so very strange to be invited to dine with aliens. Up until this instant his entire repertoire of interactions with non-human life had mostly been a sequence of "kill the genocidal aliens", there were a few conversation areas tucked away in there, but those lay in the diminutive minority.

"Just tell me you'll think about it," continued the turian after no reply seemed likely to occur. The Spartan nodded again, turned, and left the duo, his thoughts whirring. He could easily understand warfare, guns, enemies, and killing, but continuing to have extraterrestrials talk plainly with him seemed to have a numbing effect on his already limited responses.

As he reached the elevator, the Chief wished that Cortana would come out of her delirium. His mind wandered once more towards seeking help for his friend, but he quickly squashed the thought. He had to believe that she could pull through this, for both their sakes. The ding that echoed throughout the box shook him from his reverie, but as he stepped out from the lift, the hairs on the back of his neck began to stand on end. The armored human paused for a minute, listening intently to his surroundings. Someone was in here with him, he was sure of it.

There was a faint waver of nothingness in the air off to his right, and, relying on pure instinct, the Spartan lunged towards the shimmer. His hand flew forward and grabbed at the artificial vacancy and quickly found purchase. There was an electronic flash in the air, and suddenly a hooded woman in a skin tight prowling suit came into being. He looked down at the covenant plasma rifle she held up defensively between them. He looked lower at where he had grabbed her… and quickly let go of her breast. In all fairness… she should have knocked.

**OOOO**

Miranda did not like the elevator on the Normandy. It was spacious to be sure, but it tended to move at a pace that even a snail would call slow. It was a main reason why she liked staying in her office for a majority of the time, that and getting work done. The biotic could do almost anything in the confines of her room, from filing reports to "keeping a watchful eye on anyone on the ship. The elevator rang out that it had finally reached the cargo bay, reminding her of a simple fact. Well… almost anyone.

The doors opened, and suddenly she found herself face to face, that is to say chest, with the Spartan himself. A pair of unmistakably female legs was draped over his shoulder, making the large man look as if he was some sort of conquering barbarian. The Cerberus Operative slowly moved out of his way and around to see the rest of Kasumi dangling down the back half of the veteran soldier's armor, her chin resting on her hand while a rather annoyed look was currently in residence on her face.

"Oh come on, Mr. Possessive," protested the thief as the Chief set her down in the elevator and stood at the entryway, barring her from coming back in. "It was only a little gun. I would have given it back eventually."

The pout that she was currently giving the man was specifically design to hit the male libido like a lead pipe. This would have worked on most men, but the Spartan, the asian quickly found out as he reached in and pressed a button on the lift, was not most men. The closing shaft rapidly reminded the intruder that this was not a disagreement, but an ousting.

Without speaking a word to his new guest, the Chief strode past Miranda and over to one of his containers and pulled forth a weapon.

"She tried to take one of these," stated the super soldier in his default demeanor, as he brandished the familiar blue weapon in her general direction. There was no malice or anger in that voice, but, if anything, it was mildly tinged with disappointment.

"**She** didn't mean anything by it. She just borrows things from time to time," replied Miranda, putting slightly more emphasis on the lead word than was probably needed. Of course the thief hadn't meant anything by it, she'd just been following a …. request. But the Master Chief didn't need to know that, she was already on less than amiable terms with the giant, much to her own doing, and didn't plan on making things worse. To be honest though, she had meant to cancel her demand, but hadn't found the thief in time.

"Borrows?" asked the Spartan, seemingly amused. In fact, if the biotic didn't know better, she would have sworn that he was hiding a smile and a raised eyebrow behind that helmet.

"She would have brought it back eventually…," answered the Cerberus Operative, her voice trailing off slightly as she watched him turn to his other sack and begin removing tools from it. "What are you doing?"

"Multitasking," responded the armored human swiftly, the simplicity of the statement causing a small spike of anger to flare within the biotic, but after a deep breath she controlled herself. She paused, however, before answering. The large man had taken off his helmet, and once more she found herself transfixed by his calm stare.

He gazed at her a few moments more before looking back to his equipment and grabbing what very much looked like a heavily modified power drill. The question could not have been more obvious if it had been announced by a marching band and several fireworks, and read by a pompous man with a very large scroll, 'Why are you still here?'.

"I," started Miranda hesitantly, there was not a single particle within her body that agreed with the idea of apologizing. It felt wrong, to feel that she was in error, and the demanding tone of that look was enough to set her argumentative teeth on edge. With little doubt, this mentality could probably be traced back to the upbringing her father had given her, but she had already reminded herself several times on her way down to the bay that she wasn't here to get angry, "am sorry-"

There was a clang over by where the Master Chief sat and had apparently dropped his power tool. After closer inspection, taking into account the very faint traces of mock astonishment, which, in the Spartan's case, was like an ululating yell compared to his normal expression, the biotic found that the Normandy had inadvertently attained another sarcastic bastard.

"You don't have to be bloody dramatic about it," snapped the biotic, not so much out of anger as simply because it seemed the appropriate response to the physical joke. Her lips quivered as she locked into mortal combat with the smile that was doing its damnedest to take control of her mouth. She fought valiantly and would have inevitably won, if the armored man's small grin, that is to say, a slight upward inclination of the right corner of his mouth, hadn't appeared and tipped the scales in favor of her own.

"Sorry," replied the Spartan without truly meaning it as he picked his tool back up and set about the task of what looked like removing his armor. It was then that the experienced operative actually took into account the amount of damage that the man had sustained during the fight. His suit, which had already been heavily pock marked and scorched when they had first met him, was now doubly so with some cracks as well.

"I suppose I deserved it though," continued Miranda somewhat distantly. Her eyes watched as the veteran soldier removed a gauntlet and then another with relative ease, the upper arm sections quickly followed. All the segments had seemed to unfold slightly before hitting the floor with a dull metallic thud. A realization hit her with all the abruptness of a surprise visit from your in-laws. _He's fastened into the bloody thing._

Watching him further, the experienced combatant moved to the leg pieces which unclasped and fell in the same fashion. The smooth armored body suit that lay beneath, when compared to the bulky torso plates, which was the only set left, gave the man the likeness of a shaved cat with a mane. The unbidden thought amused the operative immensely, that is, until the Spartan's s apparatus began to whine with the stress of an uncooperative section.

"Do you need some help?" asked the biotic after a few moments of watching the Chief struggle with the entirely truculent segment. After one more try, he nodded and handed over the instrument and sat down on a crate as she strode over. The interlocking mechanism seemed jammed at the back, just out of the man's range of motion.

"Dr. Chakwas mentioned that you had done this all by yourself the last time," continued Miranda conversationally as she worked the tool around the malfunctioning area, trying to find the snag. Of course, the practitioner hadn't truly gone into much detail at that part, something about common decency and doctor-patient confidentiality. It had been a wonder that she'd managed to pry the internal scans away from the older woman.

The super soldier shrugged in reply. The Chief, the biotic noticed, seemed to have a hundred different types of shrugs, each with their own specific meaning. This current one, number thirty-seven by her count, said plainly, "It wasn't broken then."

"Do you mind if I try something?" implored the Cerberus member after a few more attempts to get the bloody assembly to detach, but the damn thing still refused to give.

"What?" asked the Master Chief, turning his head slightly to look her in the eye.

"I could use my biotics to unjam it," offered Miranda tentatively, knowing he was still most likely not comfortable with the whole idea of people with seemingly psychic powers. However, after a quiet minute of contemplation, the soldier nodded his permission. She watched as his muscles clenched slightly as the ebon glow of dark energy began to coalesce around her, he was trusting her, but also seemed ready to snap into action if need be.

The pair sat in silence as the second in command toiled on his armor, her biotics combined with the removal device were finally starting to make headway. The quiet, however, bothered her, and she soon found her small talk sub-routines causing her mouth to ramble of its own accord.

"I … appreciate your help today," admitted the operative honestly before her pride even knew what had happened. The emotion frantically attempted to take control of the mouth before she ended up making any other nice comments, it failed. "I don't know if we would have made it to my sister in time if it wasn't for you."

The Spartan shrugged a number three, a humble 'Well, I don't know about that.' It was meant to be courteously dismissive of the praise, but to Miranda, or more precisely her vanity, who was not wholly comfortable in the department of handing out compliments, it came off simply as flippant and worthy of a smack upside of his head.

"Just take the bloody compliment," snapped the biotic as her hand followed the prescribed course with both admirable accuracy and speed. She received a turned head and a raised eyebrow in response, but nothing more. Suddenly, with a pneumatic hiss the chest and back sections came loose and tumbled to the floor, and the Chief quickly stood and removed the next layer of his armor, revealing the thin black bodysuit that lay beneath. Her focus shifted to his chest where several bloody patches grew steadily.

"It's nothing," supplied the Chief stoically, seeming to truly believe the statement. The operative, however, completely unwilling to put up with anyone's stubbornness but her own, walked over to a medigel dispenser and grabbed a few capsules.

"Take off the top," stated Miranda, her tone brooking no arguments. The large man, apparently entirely uninterested in arguing, quickly extricated himself from the upper half of the suit, revealing a chest that was almost entirely a mass of bruising punctuated with a multitude of oozing holes.

After staring awkwardly for a few moments, the Cerberus Operative remembered herself, opened the cases, and began to apply the healing salve. The medi-gel quickly set to work, sealing his injuries.

"Why?" asked the Spartan evenly as she continued to smear the unguent onto the nastier sections of his chest first. It was a fair question, because, to be quite honest, the giant was perfectly capable of doing this himself.

"My sister means more to me than I would normally like anyone to know. You shouldn't have been the one taking all this damage. It was my mission, and this is the least that I can do," she replied simply, but the previously armored man continued to stare at her as if she was going to try make a grab for his weapons and dash to the elevator. A spike of anger shot through her mind at the thought, but never allowed it to show through her mask. "Don't you have anyone that you'd do anything for?"

"… my Spartans," answered the Chief after a few moments.

"How many of you were there?" asked the biotic, genuinely curious. The information broker inside of her, smelling verbal blood in the air, was quick to pounce on this specific subject like a lioness on a particularly ill looking gazelle.

"One-hundred and fifty," replied the Master Chief tightly, as if he were not going to say much more than that about his super soldiers. The operative must have been reaching the border of one of his confidentiality boundaries. A thought came to her that she should probably stop asking; she waved at it as it passed her by.

"How many of you survived the war?" pressed the second in command, her curiosity continuing to get the better of her. However, his answering stare quickly quashed any hold the emotion had over her. He looked down at the biotic with the distant glance that every true soldier wears at one point in their life, its meaning easily read, 'Not enough. Not nearly enough.' "… I didn't know they were dead."

Silence hung heavy in the air as Miranda finished up applying the medigel. It seemed that she had killed the conversation so adequately that had it been a train, it would have not only derailed, but tumbled off into a gorge with a fiery explosion as well. The Cerberus Operative turned to leave, beginning to suspect that she had done more harm than good with this visit.

"Spartans never die," stated the Master Chief suddenly before she had made it more than a handful of steps away. The biotic turned to look back, an eyebrow raised in question of the obscure statement, but the large human had no hope of seeing it; his current gaze hinting that he wasn't seeing much of anything that wasn't several years in the past. "They're just missing in action…"

Miranda continued back to the elevator with, not for the first time, more questions than answers.

**OOOO**

The room was dark save for the orange glow of the clock beside the bed, and somewhere in gloom a noise went 'Thunk.' It was not the first time that the sound had echoed throughout the chamber, there had been a great number of precursor Thunks and would be more of their Thunk brethren to come. In fact, it was the type of din that normally occurred while a man in deep thought lay on a bed tossing a ball against the wall. The cyclical motion is naturally supposed to have a calming effect on the mind, but after, 342…. _Thunk_… 343 tosses, Shepard had yet to feel any better.

The Commander watched as the ball drifted lazily through the air and back towards his waiting hand, and repeated the throw. _Thunk_. His mind raced over past events, actively ignoring his commands to move onto something else. Too much had bubbled up today, surfacing from the dark recesses of his consciousness where he had hoped they'd stay. He'd tried to stifle them, but some small part of himself kept stirring the pot.

_Thunk_. His sight became fuzzy as the repetitive motion began to take on an almost hypnotic feel, but his hands easily continued their comfortable motion despite the hindrance. _Thunk._ Memories began to dance across his eyes as the cauldron of memories stirred more.

…_-e'll be fine out there. No one to tell us what to do or how to do it. We'll be free!..._

Thunk

…_come on, let's just do one more. We could use the creds_…

Thunk

…_Just keep them busy for me…_

Thunk

…We've made it!...

Thunk

…_It's not your fault…_

Thunk

…_The young man who would eventually become Commander Shepard signed his name on the last piece of paperwork needed to join the Alliance military, his face specifically contoured into a calm mask. _

"_You sure you want to do this, kid?" asked the recruiter, in the tone of voice that suggested he was only inquiring out of pure protocol. "Don't you want to take a month to say bye to some family first?"_

"_No," replied James as he grasped the miniature urn that hung on a chain underneath his shirt. The pain was dull now, but he knew that it would not be going anywhere for a very long time. "I don't have any family."_

"_Well, kid," continued the enlisting officer, completely oblivious to any of the hidden context. The man stretched out a convivial hand and waited for the young man to shake it , "welcome to the Alliance. I'm sure you'll do us proud." _

_Yeah… sure…_

_Thunk_

… _I hope with all that I find holy that I. Never. Wake. Up!" He watched the quarian's body tremble with worry and shock, as he alienated one of his last true friends…_

Crash

The ball had plunged through the glass of the fish tank easily enough; he really should have sprung for something other than the cheap shit. The water poured out onto the floor, seeping through in places and standing in others. He was going to get hell for this from some choice crew members, but, to be truly honest, he didn't care at the current moment.

He hadn't meant to blow up at her like that. She had only been trying to help, but she had to realize that he couldn't be the same old Shepard any more. The mask was the only part of him that resembled the old Commander, and even that was beginning to disintegrate.

He just wanted to slip back into the sleep again, back into his own personal void. His memory was completely blank from the time he had spent in the afterlife… who knows, maybe Maria had been there…

**OOOO**

**[Incident Report No.] 2**

**[Day] 18**

**[Site No.] 66352**

**[Start Log] At 0200 hours this morning, Security Detail #036 (Samuel Drake) reported missing. This is the second MIA in as many weeks. Probable causes are currently thought to be some combination of curiosity and the decrepit state of the vessel. A wing of fighters was sent to scout for the body outside, but, like the other, there was no trace. Whereas I am sure the bodies will turn up eventually, I have doubled the postings of guards until such time. [End Log]**

**Next Chapter: Chapter 9 – F is for Friends…**

**Author's Note: So, the next chapter should be short (i.e. faster to write) , so I will try to get it out soon, but as many of you know, real life comes first, so no promises. If any of you have any other ideas after reading this chapter, please feel free to tell, I'm always listening.**


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